


Still Here

by Sadepisara



Category: Ylvis
Genre: M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-01-06 05:55:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 97,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1103207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sadepisara/pseuds/Sadepisara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A worktired Vegard comes home to find his drunk littlebrother in his appartment. Turns out they don't know each other as well as they thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Drunk on Misery

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how long this story is going to be, and I don't know in what direction I want it to go either. If I decide to continue on it it will probably contain some form of sexual actions in the future, probably either between Bård and Vegard, or Bård and Calle, so if you don't like that please don't read. Otherwise, enjoy!

Vegard was on his way home from work. He was angry and tired, frustrated at life. He hadn't slept well during the past week, and the work had piled up like the traffic he had been stuck in for an hour. Calle had been a general ass today, and it had distressed Vegard more than it should have. That was Calle's thing, of course, he couldn't blame the man for that. But sometimes Vegard just wished he would keep shut and do his work and let Vegard immerse in his.

But what disturbed Vegard the most, was Bård's absence from work. He hadn't come in the morning, and when Vegard had called him he had sounded very drunk and angry and refused to give out his location. The clock had been ten in the morning then, and that was the only time he had answered during the day.

Vegard's fuming anger was also fueled by a tiny fear, though he wouldn't admit that to himself or anyone else. God knows what Bård could have done in that state. He could've gotten seriously hurt or passed out somewhere. It was publicly known the Ylvisåker-brothers didn't hold their alcohol very well.

Vegard made his way across the parkingarea with heavy steps on the hard dark asphalt. The rain beat his back furiously like a million whips punishing him even though he hadn't done anything very wrong.

He grabbed the cold doorhandle with his bare hands, throwing an unhappy glance at the sky. The weather had been that for weeks now, always cold, always raining, but temperature never dropping low enough for there to be snow instead of icy spears. He was growing tired of it dangerously swiftly now.

He took the stairs instead of the old elevator, and climbed to the fourth floor. The keys weren't in the first pocket he searched. They never were. He went through the other and grabbed hold of the keys. Violently prodding it into the lock, he twisted the key and the door clicked open silently. There was a dim light coming from the livingroom, Vegard saw as he stepped in. Odd, he didn't remember leaving any lights on. He furrowed his brow and listened carefully. Small grunts and sounds were coming from the livingroom. There was someone in his house.

He tried to move silently, the intruder had apparently not heard him open the door. He left the door open, partly not to cause more noise, and partly to have a clear route to escape through in case one was needed. He sneaked further into the apartment, careful not to trip over or touch anything that would cause a commotion. Suddenly the one in the livingroom fell silent. Vegard stopped abruptly and listened, his heart was beating fast and his breath felt loud as an airplane to him. Seconds passed like hours, and then suddenly a somewhat incoherent voice broke the dense silence.

”Vegard?”

Vegard's first reaction was to breathe out and close his eyes in relief. He would never mistake that voice. Of course he should've known it was Bård, he had given the man his sparekeys! 

Then a red numb anger grew in him and he walked back to the door and pulled it shut with a rage the world rarely saw coming from him. He stormed back to the livingroom and found his younger brother sitting on the floor at the foot of the sofa, beercans and a bottle of whiskey around himself. The TV was on but muted, and Vegard's computer sat in front of Bård, opened on what seemed to be a pornsite. Bård looked stupidly at Vegard.

”Hi, Vegard.” He said, evidently tipsy, but not entirely intoxicated. Vegard stared at him with such a judging and cold glare, the younger man shifted uncomfortably.

”Just what the hell do you think you're doing?” Vegard folded his arms across his chest. His face was red with fury. Bård was silent. ”I asked you a question, Bård.” Bård looked like he was thinking furiously, his blue eyes were directed to the floor, blinking every now and then as if trying to clear the view. Then he opened his mouth carefully.

”I know you asked me a question, Vegard.” He slurred slightly. ”But listen-”

”No, you listen to me, you idiot!” Vegard hissed through bared teeth and walked over to Bård. He pointed at the beers. ”I have a hard day at work and then I come home to this! Is this what you've been up to all day? Breaking into my house to drink all my beer and... and watch porn on my computer!” Bård grabbed Vegard's leg and got up clumsily. ”I can't believe your stupidity, Bård! Why didn't you come to work, huh? I can't believe I ever gave you those keys.” Bård stood in front of Vegard, one hand on his older brother's shoulder, slightly pressing him down as Bård leaned on him to keep his balance. The index finger of his other hand pressed clumsily against Vegard's lips.

”Shh.” Bård said silently in an attempt of calming his brother. Vegard lifted one hand angrily and moved away the hand of the other. ”Let me explain to you, Vegard. Shh, don't interrupt.” Bård looked at Vegard with raised eyebrows for a second, as if to confirm the other wouldn't throw another fit. Then he moved away to sit on the couch behind them. ”Lisa dumped me.” He said, and a joyless laughter left his lips. Vegard's features softened just for a second, before hardening again. Bård had been with a woman called Lisa for some time now. Five months maybe? Vegard didn't really like her. She was kind of one of those gold-diggers, hanging around with men only to get fancy jewelry or expensive clothes. 

”Why did she leave you, then?” Vegard's voice was still harsh and cutting.

”No, no shh.” Bård said and looked annoyed suddenly. ”That's not the point. That's not the- sit down, Vegard.” He tugged at Vegard's shirt and he sat down unwillingly. ”Look, she left me. Okay? She sent me a text that said 'I'm leaving you' and she left me. Now that was expected, yeah. I didn't really want her anymore. The thing is just that she...” his voice trailed off and he stared into thin air.

”She what?” Vegard asked then, and his voice was now closer to normal. He looked at his brother curiously.

”She left me.” Bård said with a hollow voice. His stare broke and his eyes dropped to the floor. ”I don't know what to do. I'm not used to be alone, and she left me so now I'm alone.”

”It's okay, you'll find another.” Vegard hurried to say. He felt a bit panicked. It had been years since they had shared anything on such an emotional level. He wasn't sure just how he was supposed to react. This wasn't their usual way of communicating, at all, and Vegard felt a bit uneasy. He blamed the alcohol for Bård's behaviour, he usually got miserable when drunk anyway. Maybe Vegard could forgive him for breaking into his house one day, and right now the brother seemed to need someone to talk to. A comforting hand landed carefully on Bård's back, and the younger brother leaned into the touch just a bit. ”You'll find someone nice, Bård. You'll find another.” Bård was still for a second as if he was pondering about the words. Then he suddenly jerked and leaned forward, grabbing the whiskey bottle and downing a gulp.

”No I won't.” He laughed joylessly and shoved the bottle into Vegard's chest passive aggressively. The older brother grabbed the whiskey from the younger one's hand and downed a mouthful. This can't get any better anyway, so why not, he thought. Bård was in the middle of a laughing fit. ”No I won't, no I won't!” He chanted as he swayed back and forth, facial expression conveying both amusement and hurt. There was something unfamiliar with Bård's whole being that Vegard couldn't quite put his finger on. ”I won't, Vegard...” Bård stilled and looked at Vegard for a moment before turning away. Vegard was at a loss of words, and he only looked at his brother whose mouth had curled downward in an ugly pout. He looked like he was going to break any second.

”It's okay, Bård.” Vegard whispered and let his hand make small circles on his brothers narrow back. Bård huffed and leaned into Vegard. His cheek pressed against Vegard's chest, and Vegard could feel his heart beat just a couple beats faster. They were never that close, never gave in to their feelings like that in each other's company. He decided to just let go too, and wrapped both his arms around Bård and closed his eyes. He listened to Bård's uneven breaths, and his hands clutched Bård's shoulder as if he was holding onto something, afraid he'd fall.

”Vegard...?” Bård's voice sounded unexpectedly. It was ten years younger, just a boy's lost words. Barely a whisper in the ongoing world. ”Would you take care of me?”

”What?” Vegard mouthed into Bård's blonde hair.

”If I got really sick. Would you be with me? Take care of me, lets say, until I died?”

”What are you talking about?” Vegard asked and moved Bård a bit away from himself so that he could eye him over. The boy must've been really drunk. ”Where's this coming from? You're not sick are you?”

”No.” Bård said hurriedly and blushed. His words were an incoherent mumbling. ”No, I'm just wondering. You're kind of the only one I have, you know. I don't have a social life.”

”What do you mean 'the only one'? Mom and dad care, and Bjarte. And Calle and Magnus and the team.”

”Please...” Bård said and he looked really tired and drained. ”Just... yes or no? Would you stay with me until the end? Yes or no?”

”Well, of course! Yes!” Vegard answered and chuckled confusedly at the relieved sigh Bård let out. He slumped against Vegard's chest again with a soft thud. ”Could you possibly just enlighten me a bit on this, Bård?” Vegard asked softly.

”They have to care,” Bård said immediately, carelessly. ”they're family, colleagues... While you're...”

”I'm...?”

”Everything.”

”Everything?”

”Stop reciting me, you ass!”

”I'm sorry.” Vegard chuckled and drew a hand through Bård's messy hair. His fingers tangled slightly in the light strands. ”Your words don't really make sense, you know.”

”Neither does my heart.” Bård's voice trailed off and Vegard wasn't sure he had heard right. Before he got a chance to ask, light snoring voices emerged from the figure in Vegard's arms. Vegard smiled and leaned back on the sofa careful not to awake the other. He felt a new calm inside himself, where he lay with Bård tucked up against him. They hadn't been like that for years, not since Bård was a reckless pre-teen, trying to act tough and big, yet sometimes seeing nightmares from their time in Africa. Vegard remembered the panicked face, big blue eyes filled with tears, as Bård had walked into his room in the middle of the night, claiming he could hear the gunfire outside. Vegard had hugged him tight and told him it was only his imagination mixed with the sound of the rain swatting at the window in the stormy night of Bergen, and eventually the younger had settled against his bigbrother's side and dozed off, while Vegard had been left alone in the darkness with the memories of the gunfire ever present in his head. It never left him really. It only faded into that soft sound of rain against a window when things were good. When things were like now.  
With a faint smile on his lips he figured now was as good a time as any to take a nap. It was only six o'clock anyway, they'd get sleep later on.


	2. Four Stages of Pissed Off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So folkens, as you can see I've changed the tags. This story officially became Bård/Vegard or Vegard/Bård or Brovis or whatever you want to call it.
> 
> This chapter is kinda silly and maybe a bit unnecessary, and I promise a bit more action in the next chapter. I hope you enjoy!

When Bård woke up it was with a silent groan. His head pounded slightly, and his neck had been in an awkward position and was now stiff and hurting. He moved around a bit, trying to get into a more comfortable position so that he could continue sleeping, but then he froze. He was lying on top of someone, or at least his upper body was. Impossible, Lisa had left him, right? His face was turned away from the other, and he hadn't even opened his eyes yet. Suddenly the body under him moved, and a silent grumble was released from the chest his head lay on. Wait... He knew that voice.

He waited until the other had stilled again, and the breaths landed steadily into the back of his head once more. Then he opened his eyes to confirm his suspicions. And yes, it was indeed Vegard's house, and the man he was lying on was Vegard, he saw that from the legs that were stretched out onto the coffeetable. The lights and the TV were still on, and Vegard's computer sat on the floor. Bård almost winced when his eyes landed on the empty cans of beer. That explained the headache.

He lay there a good ten minutes before he carefully sat up and looked back at his brother. Vegard slept in a sitting position, face smoothed out and a couple of black strands falling into his closed eyes. Bård smiled, it had been too long since he'd seen Vegard sleep. No, it had been too long since Bård had seen Vegard _relaxed._ There was way too much work right now, what with their show and the unexpected fame The Fox had brought them. It was tiring them both, and occasionally tearing their relationship apart a bit. Bård chuckled, what Vegard had come home to was probably the last thing he'd wanted to see. They had agreed on trying to stay apart when not working, just to try and ease the tension that built up between them from time to time. Too bad the news Bård was about to come with would probably desert that agreement.

Bård pondered on whether to wake up Vegard or not. The clock told him it was 9:30pm. It had probably not been Vegard's intention to sleep this long. Bård grabbed Vegard's shoulder gently, but stopped before shaking him. The calm face was such a rare sight, and Bård couldn't bring himself to spoil it. He watched his brother intently, trying to draw out every line of the older one's face into his memory. _This is what I should wake up to every day_ , he thought sadly, but dismissed the thoughts soon.

Throwing a last quick glance at Vegard's sleeping form, Bård got up and had to steady himself by leaning onto the wall. He shook his head, trying to sober his foggy thoughts. He seemed to still be a bit drunk. When he got himself together and stood on his own legs only, he took one big leap over Vegard's feet that were laid like a bridge between the couch and the small table. He was about to head into the kitchen, when he stopped and turned to look at Vegard with a puzzled look on his face. He felt alone in his brother's house and could definitely have used some company. It was okay to wake Vegard, he told himself. He had a right to kid around sometimes. He was the littlebrother after all.

With a mischievous grin he walked back to the couch. Vegard's mouth had opened slightly now, and a light snore escaped his lips. Gently Bård brushed away the strands that brushed his face. Vegard moved slightly but didn't wake up. Bård bent down all the way so that their faces were inches from each other. He parted his lips and whispered into Vegard's ear with the girliest voice he could muster.

”Wake up, babe.” He had to hold back a chuckle at Vegard's response. His brows furrowed and his head turned towards Bård, clearly seeking the source of the voice in his dreams. He wouldn't remember anything when he woke up, Bård knew that because this was his favourite thing to do when they were travelling together. Especially if Calle was there too, they'd laugh for hours about it until Vegard would get angry at them. ”Vegard.” He purred into Vegard's ear. ”Wake up” Vegard shifted again and a tiny, tiny grunt left him. He looked focused and his eyelids fluttered just slightly. _Showtime_ , Bård thought and grinned widely into Vegard's ear.

”WAKE UP, IDIOT!”

Bård laughed so much he almost had to sit down on the floor. Vegard's face was priceless, he would never get tired of this prank. Tears pushed into Bård's eyes when Vegard finally got himself composed after the fright of having his brother growl into his ear.

”What the fuck?” Vegard said and stood up to tower over Bård's bent form. His face was red of anger and humiliation. The times he'd woken up like this were countless. ”I swear to whatever god there is, I'll have your fucking tongue cut off one day!” Bård laughed and straightened his form. Oh, what an urge Vegard had to just slap that grinning face all the way over to Alaska. ”You neglect work, break into my house, use my electricity and my booze, fall asleep on my lap, and then you have the decency to wake me like this! I can't believe you sometimes, Bård!”

”Oh, come on, grandpa! Cheer up a bit.” Bård said as he moved away to the kitchen, followed closely by his fuming older brother.

”No! No, you know what, Bård? You know what?” Vegard grabbed Bård's shoulder and spun him around rather violently. Bård had to reach for the doorhandle of the fridge to keep his balance. ”I won't cheer up!” Vegard stood on his toes to be able to hiss the words right in the other one's face. ”I'm so full of your shit, Bård. I'm so done.” Bård realized the graveness of Vegard's anger. He began to regret he'd woken up his brother, or rather the manner in which he'd done it. His grin had died out long ago and he was now watching the boiling temper of the other with a blank expression. Suddenly he felt more sober than ever.

”Okay, okay.” He said softly and put a hand on Vegard's shoulder, but the other shrugged it off angrily. ”Look, I see I've upset you. Just... calm down. I owe you an explanation.”

”Damn right you owe me an explanation!” Bård noticed the desperation in Vegard's voice where it hitched in the end of the sentence. It was good, the older brother was over that worst part of anger now. He knew the way Vegard behaved when really angry, or the Four Stages of Pissed Off, as he called it. First came the headless shouting and insulting, then the miserable despair, then the mute petulance and finally the forgiving and peacemaking.

”Just go back and sit in the sofa, I'll be right there.” Bård said and turned Vegard around gently. The man had calmed down now, his shoulders drooped as he made his way to the sofa. Bård could see him lazily slump down onto the soft cushions. Bård took a couple of seconds to just calm himself and think through what he would say next. He knew Vegard wouldn't like it, and there was a chance of another fit of feverish rage to rain over him. With a deep breath and a quick glance at the black head that that had plopped back on the backrest, Bård grabbed a banana from the kitchen counter where he'd left it yesterday. Then he paced back to the livingroom confidently.

”Look,” he said as he stopped to stand directly in front of Vegard. The older brother just stared in front of himself, through Bård. ”I kind of have a thing I didn't tell you about yesterday.” He paused to wait for a response that didn't come. Great, he'd gone into the mute stage already. One more to go. Bård knelt down and touched Vegard's hand lightly. ”I'll just go ahead and call myself a fucking idiot because I know you'll do that anyway. So I was stupid enough to agree on having the apartment me and Lisa lived in registered in her name. So when she left me, you know...” Bård made a clicking noise and looked expectantly at Vegard. Suddenly the other one snapped to life again, and he bent his upper body down and drowned his face in his hands.

”You fucking idiot...” Vegard mumbled into his palms.

”Told you you'd say that!” Bård said artificially cheerfully and hit his brother in the knee playfully.

”Fuck off.”

”Come on, don't be like that, Vegard.” Bård moaned and rose to sit beside his brother on the couch. He looked at his brother patiently, while Vegard rubbed his eyes.

”What do you want me to be like then, Bård?” Vegard asked finally and turned to look at Bård. His expression was dead serious, and his voice held a hurt that was difficult for Bård to understand. Bård had to turn away his gaze and swallow. He didn't like the situation at all, because joking wasn't a reliable backup-plan right now. He felt out of the comfort zone. ”Because honestly, I have no idea how I should relate to you sometimes. I'm completely clueless. Please enlighten me.” Bård had no words to be found within himself. He stared down into his lap and opened and closed his mouth in turns. Vegard shifted with a huff.

”I don't know.” Bård said just to break the silence. Vegard let out a tired laugh.

”Of course you don't know. Because it's always me who has to know everything, right? Because I'm the bigbrother and you're the littlebrother and that's all you _are_. Jokes and pretty smiles. You do anything and the crowd loves you.” Vegard paused for a moment as he realized he'd trailed off into a pointless rant, lost the actual topic. He sighed heavily and turned to look at his brother. The dark eyes were now calm again, if a little sad. ”So what you mean to say is, you don't have a place to go to?”

”Yeah, pretty much.” Bård rasped and cleared his throat.

”Idiot.”

”Yeah, pretty much.” Vegard let out a tiny tired laugh at that, and Bård smiled. That was the last stage, the forgiving and peacemaking.

”Well then, littlebrother, you're gonna have to sleep here tonight.” Vegard threw a lazy hand around Bård's shoulder and gave him a squeeze. Then they parted and Vegard pointed at the banana still in Bård's clutch. ”Are you gonna eat that or just mash it in your hand?”

”Right.” Bård said and eased the too-tight grip. He peeled it and ate it while Vegard got up and collected all the empty cans and rumbled around in the kitchen for a moment. Then he appeared again and announced he would be going to bed and they would discuss more tomorrow. It was Sunday tomorrow and they wouldn't have work. It was one of those days they were supposed to be free of each other for 24 hours straight. So much for that then, Vegard thought with a smile as his brother walked off to the toilet to wash his face.

Bård would sleep on the sofa even though two would at least in theory fit into Vegard's bed. He insisted on it, though Vegard pointed out it was entirely too short for Bård to fit into with his ridiculously long legs. Bård pointed out Vegard was just jealous of Bård because he was a hairy little hobbit himself.

Vegard had brushed his teeth and washed his face and changed into his nightboxers. He handed Bård a pillow from his bed and an old smelly duvet from the back of his closet, and wishing his brother a good night he made his way toward his own bedroom, only to be interrupted by his brother's uncertain voice.

”Hey Vegard... Thanks for letting me sleep here.” Vegard smiled back at his brother. Bård stood in the middle of the livingroom in only his briefs, the bags of clothes he'd taken with him from his former apartment were emptied around him on the floor. His body looked almost precisely as it had fifteen years ago. Bård had never been that much of muscles.

”Yeah, well I can't really throw you out either, can I?.” He said with a smirk. ”Youre still drunk. Mom would kill me.”

”I'm not drunk!” Bård insisted gingerly and threw the pillow playfully at Vegard. The older brother caught the fluffy thing flying towards him and laughed. ”See? I can aim! Drunk my ass...” Vegard threw the pillow back onto the sofa and retired to his room.

”I'll talk to you tomorrow when you're less drunk.” He said and received a muffled fuck you. Silently he closed the door and tiptoed over to his bed. He dived under the thick duvet and buried himself in the softness. He wanted the day to end already, it had been way too long and way too filled with unimportant stuff. Unfortunately he wouldn't get sleep for another two hours. Tossing and turning he tried to chase the slippery edge of dream. What he caught instead were thoughts of Bård. He was glad the boy was quit the unpleasant girlfriend, but just what the hell had Bård been thinking, letting the witch of a woman take the apartment just like that?

When he couldn't seem to find a good position, Vegard got up and silently made his way to the toilet. Partly because he had to, and partly to check on his brother. Bård had wrapped himself up in the duvet, feet hanging over the edge of the short sofa, and only a messy ball of light hair peeked out of the thing. Vegard went back to the bedroom and closed the door carefully before climbing back into the still warm bed. He stretched out his limbs as far as he could. _It would totally fit two,_ he thought. Yet still he fell asleep in it completely alone.


	3. Gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this now though I intended to post it tomorrow. I'm writing so that I am one chapter ahead of you guys, just in case something happens and I don't have time to write in a long time, so I can post that ready chapter while waiting to be able to write. And chapter four would become really long if I wouldn't divide it, so yeah long story short I have chapter four finished, and can with certainty tell that in chapter five there will be some stuff happening ;)
> 
> Oh and in case you haven't noticed yet, this is an AU story with no wives or kids, but I think you had that figured out already.
> 
> Anyway, enough of my ranting. Enjoy chapter 3!

Vegard was the first to wake up. He always was. Bård slept – amazingly still on the sofa and not the floor – on his stomach with one hand and one foot hanging down over the edge. His mouth was open and a faint line of drool trailed down his chin. The duvet had been kicked down on the floor. Bård always preferred being cold over hot.  
  
Vegard decided not to wake up his brother, at least not yet. He took a quick hot shower and started preparing breakfast, expecting the noise to make Bård stir soon. When Vegard peeked his head out of the kitchen, the man was still sleeping soundly on the couch.  
  
”Idiot.” he muttered silently and returned to brew some coffee. He didn't normally like coffee, but he had a tiny feeling he could use some today. A headache was already building up in the back of his head. He cursed as he dropped a bag of nuts on the floor, and the tiny things bounced on the wooden surface, reminding him so much of the distant explosions in his head.  
  
Vegard walked over to the livingroom carrying a plate with bread and a cup of coffee in his hands. He turned the lights on and Bård shifted to bury his face in the nook of his arm. Vegard rolled his eyes and walked over to the sofa and kicked Bård's remaining foot off it so he'd get enough place to sit. Then he turned on the TV and turned the sound up just a bit too loud. Bård grunted beside him and slid halfway down on the floor. His knees were on the floor as if he was standing on all four, while his arms and upper body rested on the sofa. It took a couple of seconds before his messy head lifted slowly and his half-closed eyes squinted at Vegard judgingly, unaccustomed to the light. He had tiny squares imprinted on his cheek from having slept with his face against the cushions.  
  
”What time is it?” He rasped.  
  
”11:30.” That earned a loud groan from Bård and he got up from the floor and sat down on the sofa. ”Hey, careful! I've got coffee in my hand.” Vegard warned him.  
  
”Coffee...” Bård mumbled and reached for the cup in Vegard's hand. The older brother's first reaction was to try to keep away the mug from the other, but when he noticed how drained Bård actually looked, he gave in and let his brother grab the coffee with clumsy fingers. Bård swallowed a big gulp and grimaced as the bitter hot fluid travelled down his throat. ”You make awful coffee.” He said and drew one hand through his hair to try and tame it. The strands stood out in every direction.  
  
”You should be careful with what you say to me, I'm still angry at you.” Vegard said and tried to look serious.  
  
”Believe me, I'd live in an isolated house with bulletproof walls and guards standing outside if I'd be careful with every person who's angry at me.” Vegard chuckled and Bård drank more out of his brother's cup. Vegard noticed the dark circles underneath Bård's eyes.  
  
”You don't look like you slept very well.” He said and Bård huffed.  
  
”I'm okay.” He said and leaned forward to grab one of the pieces of bread Vegard had on his plate. He only shrugged and stuffed the bread into his mouth when Vegard looked at him suspiciously. ”No, honestly.”  
  
”Fine. Okay.” Vegard said. Stubborn little pecker. Bård leaned in again to grab another piece of bread, but this time Vegard slapped him on the back of his hand. ”Quit devouring my breakfast and go make your own, you freeloader.”  
  
The morning, or what was left of it, went by slowly and turned into day and evening. The brothers ordered pizza, too lazy to prepare food by themselves. Vegard agreed on letting Bård stay at his place as long as Bård was actively looking for an apartment. Bård promised to start looking as soon as he got to his own computer which was at the office. That brought their thoughts on Vegard's computer and what it had been used for yesterday, but neither of them said anything on the subject. Vegard found himself blushing at the thought of his littlebrother watching porn on his computer. He realized there could've been a chance of him walking in on his brother doing something more than just watching it when he had come home yesterday. The video had been stopped at the time he had arrived though. Bård tapped the armrest of the sofa with his long fingers and suddenly Vegard became very aware of the quiet tension in the room. They had been sitting in awkward silence beside each other for minutes. The TV was on but had been muted when they talked about where Bård was going to live now. Some woman was holding up a piece of rock in the news, her full lips were moving excitedly. Vegard cleared his throat quickly.  
  
”You want to watch anything?” He asked and held out the remote for Bård. The younger brother only shook his head, and Vegard shrugged and started going through the channels, only to come to the conclusion that there was absolutely nothing of worth on. He stopped at some channel which hosted one of those celebrity dance shows at the moment. He watched it with loose interest until Bård suddenly laughed in a huff beside him. He looked at the brother questioningly, and Bård caught his eyes.  
  
”What's funny?” Vegard asked and couldn't help but feel a confused amusement tug at the corner of his mouth. Bård's smile never failed to make him smile.  
  
”It's surprising we haven't been asked to any of those dance shows yet. They're at least partly comedy, right? I think either of us would make a terrific contestant.” Vegard thought about it for a second, and he had to admit Bård had a point there. One would imagine people would want to see the brothers swaying around on the dancefloor. At least now that they had become so popular.  
  
”Maybe they've seen my magnificent hips and know I'd be the sure winner.” Vegard said with exaggerated arrogance and grinned. ”Maybe they don't have the balls to ask me in case I outshine everyone else.” Bård snorted and scratched his head, sneaking a look at his brother from under his hoisted arm.  
  
”That still doesn't explain why they haven't asked me.” Bård looked at the TV again, then back at Vegard. His voice was a bit provocative. ”Besides, your hip movements aren't _that_ great.”  
  
”Says mr. Stiff-pelvis.” Bård snorted uglily and Vegard could feel his cheeks reddening. He knew exactly how twisted Bård's mind was.  
  
”You can bet your head on that.” Bård said and winked at Vegard who reddened even more and had to look away. They sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity to Vegard. He felt a tad uncomfortable, and when he sneaked a careful look at Bård from under his dark locks, he saw the other was still smiling absently while following the happenings on the TV. He knew Bård liked making Vegard feel uncomfortable, and he knew he had no-one to blame for this one but himself. Suddenly the taller brother jerked and laughed, pointing at the TV. ”Salsa, huh?” He said excitedly and Vegard looked confusedly at the flashing TV-screen. True enough, some old Norwegian singer had just begun a hot-tempered salsacoreography with a younger professional dancer as his pair. Bård turned up the volume and began dancing in his seat, his long arms swayed in the beat of the music and his neck did that movement Vegard never really got a hold of. ”Come on, Vegard! Let's see your hips move to this then!” His voice was loud over the fast music, and Vegard felt the colour returning to his cheeks again. No way he'd dance in front of his brother. It was a whole different thing when he was on stage entertaining hundreds of people he didn't know and would never know. He would _not_ dance for his brother.  
  
But Bård was determined, and when he'd given a request or an order, it wasn't up to Vegard to decide whether it would be executed or not. Bård got up quickly and grabbed Vegard by the arm. The shorter man flew up on his feet, his face was as red as ever and Bård enjoyed it. He would never be able to describe the feeling he got when embarrassing his bigbrother. Not that that happened very often anymore, they were both pretty immune to embarrassment these days. Therefore this moment was pure gold for him.  
  
”Come on! Let me see those hips work!” He shouted to drown the music and shook Vegard's shoulders to make him dance. Not earning any response from Vegard's rigid body, Bård grabbed the other one's hips instead and made them forcefully move. Vegard didn't know what to do, his mind had gone blank and his horror-embarrassment mixed eyes were set firmly on his brother's face. Bård was laughing, grinning wide while his eyes avoided Vegard's, but there was that slightly intimidating spark of dominance in his face that Vegard knew so well. He knew better than to disobey, and soon Bård's hands weren't needed for the movement anymore, and they came off his hips and Bård took a step back to eye Vegard over with a victorious grin on his face.  
  
A couple of minutes they were like that, Bård occasionally laughing, saying something encouraging and clapping his hands, Vegard accelerating the dancing for every second that went by. Vegard felt almost drunk, almost _good_ under his brother's gaze. It wasn't to say he didn't feel embarrassed or wrong, because he did, and his face and chest felt as if on fire. He figured he looked like that too. But if he closed his eyes and listened to the music he could almost imagine a hundred other pairs of eyes beside Bård's, and that eased his mind a bit. He imagined himself on the I Kveld med Ylvis stage, performing a comical dance for the audience.  
  
It was awful how much Bård enjoyed seeing his brother dance like that. He tried to keep his thoughts clean, but _damn_ that was hard with such a sight in front of him. Vegard's face hosted a concentrated look, eyes shut and black curls brushing across his red cheeks, contrasting nicely with each other. The narrow hips rocked from side to side delicately, and Bård had to swallow back a groan. It hit him suddenly that this was – firstly – a _man_ , and – secondly – his _brother,_ who danced before him and made him feel that way, and he felt embarrassment and shame shoot up his neck and across his face in the form of a deep blush. He tried to focus more on the fun and less on the arousing vision in front of him.  
  
Then the song came to a sudden end, and the crow applauded to the pair on the TV. Bård applauded to Vegard and whistled. Vegard laughed embarrassedly and tried to sit down on the couch again, but the next song was on immediately, and Bård wasn't ready to let his brother slip away just yet. He held Vegard's other hand in his, and put his remaining hand on Vegard's hip. It was time for waltz. Bård had the lead, and Vegard had a hard time keeping up with his brother. He was a bit stunned again, as he'd expected to get away and forget about the whole dancing thing after the recent show. Bård rolled his eyes when Vegard didn't put his other hand on his shoulder, and ended up guiding it there himself.  
  
As the minutes flew by, Vegard got into the rhythm and relaxed a bit. They moved across the livingroom, gently swaying with the music, and Vegard avoided Bård's eyes as best he could. Bård's hand felt cold in his sweaty grip, and the long fingers of Bård's other hand were clutching him slightly on his hip. His own arm hung loosely on Bård's shoulder. Vegard didn't mind this, actually. Or maybe a bit, it was pretty odd after all. Waltzing with one's littlebrother. But it was certainly better than what he'd done before this. Suddenly a thought popped into his head, probably the outcome of his overheated brain.  
  
”You know what?” He said with an awkward laugh, and Bård looked at him expectantly. ”We could totally make a sketch out of this.”  
  
”Yeah?” Bård raised an eyebrow, and a slightly superior smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Vegard felt stupid.  
  
”Yeah.” he felt small and flushed under his brother's blue gaze. ”And... I don't know, just a silly thought. You could wear drag or something.” Vegard, as well as Bård himself, knew how much Bård had enjoyed wearing women's clothes when he was a kid. He still did, but that was Bård's secret alone.  
  
”I bet you'd like that.” Bård blurted out and immediately regretted it. But he wouldn't let it show on his face, and instead pulled on an even wider grin as he looked down on his brother. Vegard looked confused.  
  
”What?”  
  
”Nothing. Watch your step.” Vegard became aware of the dancing again. He was slightly sagging his left foot. They danced silently for a moment, before Bård untangled his hand from Vegard's and pulled him into his arms to dance really close to him, body to body, heart to heart. Vegard let out a surprised laugh, and Bård let his head sink down on the other one's shoulder.  
  
For a moment they both felt a kind of harmony and safety they hadn't known they missed in their lives. It was as if they had found something they hadn't known was lost. It was warming and it came as a white wave through their bodies and very beings, and they both smiled into each other's necks without knowing the other felt the same. They felt at home in each other's arms. For the tiniest of moments, the ghostly sound of gunfire inside Vegard's head slowed down until it matched the beat of Bård's calm heart. He sighed contently into the other one's shoulder.  
  
The feeling was gone as soon as it had been born. The odd seal was broken and shattered.  
  
”You know...” Vegard mumbled against Bård's shoulder. ”I don't know about you, but I feel a bit uncomfortable.” Bård laughed slightly and untangled himself from his brother. Their eyes met, and both their faces were red and glowing.  
  
”I sleep on the couch, so it's your turn to feel uncomfortable.”


	4. A Different Wavelength

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year to you all!

Vegard groaned in the silence as he realized it was Monday again. God he hated that feeling of _having_ to get up and go to work. He loved his work, yes it was precisely what he'd always dreamed of, just not the part where he had to get up and do his morning routines.  
  
That was exactly why he had pretty precise routines in the morning, so he could let his brain halfly sleep just a little longer. Get up, shower, dress, eat, pack, leave. Unfortunately there was something disturbing those exact daily actions. And that something wouldn't get up even if Vegard slapped him on the cheek.  
  
”I'm not playing this with you, Bård.” He said after multiple attempts to get the lazy ass of a brother to move, and just tossed a banana at Bård's face before going to the bathroom to take his shower. ”We're leaving at seven o'clock.”  
  
When Vegard exited the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist, Bård had managed to get into a sitting position. His hair was everywhere and it made him look small and young again. His blue eyes were barely open and he looked stupidly over at Vegard.  
  
”Mornin'.” Vegard said cheerily as he walked over to his bedroom to dress. All he got for an answer was a weak groan. Vegard smirked, the brat would have to blame himself for refusing the bed.  
  
The rest of the morning went swiftly by as Vegard brewed coffee – a lot of coffee – for Bård and helped him dress and eat some. There wasn't enough time for Bård to shower or for Vegard to eat, but eventually they both looked at least close to decent. In the car Vegard tried to make conversation, but Bård only sat silently and stared out on the rainy dark road. Vegard felt alone and trapped, eerie drumming coming both from the outside of the car and the inside of his head.  
  
They arrived to the office fifteen minutes late, and walked right in on the meeting that had begun without them. They tried to tiptoe silently to the empty chairs, without attracting attention, but of course all the eyes were on them. Needless to say, Jørgen wasn't very pleased with them. They got to hear a few chosen words, especially Bård who had been gone on Saturday, and the general mood in the office wasn't the lightest. Only Calle joked around as usual, if possible pissing everyone off even more.  
  
Bård's absence from work caused him to have double the amount of papers to go through compared to everyone else. And that meant he needed to work a couple of hours extra, because tomorrow it was time to shoot another episode of I Kveld med Ylvis and everything was due today. And that, of course, led to Vegard not being able to leave work, because Bård didn't have a car. He had left that for Lisa too. Idiot.  
  
Bård sat behind his desk and scribbled feverishly on a piece of paper. Occasional swearwords left his lips here and there. He looked frustrated, forehead full of white wrinkles. Vegard sat opposite of him, at the back of Bård's small office on a black leather sofa. He decided to punish Bård that way, silently judge him across the room and pressure him a bit. It was rather amusing actually, or it had been the first half an hour.  
  
”Fuck!” Bård howled in frustration and threw the pen across the desk violently. He looked utterly sour.  
  
”Problem?” Vegard asked, hiding his amusement by lifting a single eyebrow.  
  
”I can't get this piece of shit together.” Bård groaned and rubbed his tired face with a sweaty palm. ”And your stare really, really isn't helping.” Vegard chuckled inwardly and rose to his feet. Bård drew an angry hand through his dirty blonde hair and eyed Vegard nervously as he made his way behind Bård's desk. Vegard placed his hands on the table and leaned over to eye over the text on the paper. It was some silly little dialogue about cactuses that Bård had been stuck with for almost an hour. Vegard read it through slowly several times and Bård grew impatient soon. He let out a tiny growl. ”Well? What should I do about it?”  
  
”I don't know, man. It's your thing.” Vegard couldn't resist teasing his brother. In truth the dialogue was just there to fill in a couple of seconds from the show, and they could probably just have sacked it and made up for it with some silly improvised joke or dance or something. It wasn't that important. Bård groaned again.  
  
”I'll just take it with me and finish it up tonight.” He said and stood up. He looked really tired an Vegard couldn't help but feel just a little bit bad for the man. Then again that was surely no more than the brat deserved.  
  
The ride back to Vegard's place was easy and quick, the rush-hour was over two hours ago and the road was calm. Vegard's eyes were firmly directed in front of him, but he could feel his brother's eyes on him often. Bård probably thought he couldn't feel his gaze.  
  
That was exactly what Bård thought. He had let his hair fall slightly on his face to hide behind it in case Vegard suddenly looked his way. But he didn't. Of course he didn't. Vegard was always so focused on what he was doing. That was one of the things Bård was jealous of, Vegard's attention span. It was fascinating how he didn't get tired of anything almost ever. Then again, the things Vegard was interested in weren't always the greatest. Airports... _really?_ He snorted silently and it earned a quick glance from his brother.  
  
”What's funny?” Vegard asked as he pulled up in the parking lot.  
  
”Certainly not this weather.” Bård answered, unwilling to admit he'd been thinking of his brother, and looked at the pouring sky that waited on the other side of the thin window of the car. Vegard said nothing more and the car stopped in its place and the sound of the motor died out.  
  
”Are you coming or are you spending your night here?” Bård jumped slightly at Vegard's voice. He turned his head away from the passenger side window, only to meet the dark eyes of his brother staring at him. Vegard had leaned in towards Bård and his seat, their faces were almost so close Bård could feel Vegard's warm breath. It was a weird tension he felt, and he found his own eyes locked on Vegard's slightly parted lips. Bård had to swallow, and he was very grateful for the darkness that surrounded them. The dim glow of the streetlights wasn't enough to reveal the slight flush on his cheeks. He felt a charge so strong it was making him dizzy, but apparently Vegard was on another wavelength, because his eyebrow only lifted innocently to mouth a wordless question.  
  
”Yeah.” Bård answered absent-mindedly, but still couldn't find it in him to look away from his brother's dark face. Vegard watched him with an amused spark in his brown eyes, and finally broke the stare with a shake of his head and a chuckle.  
  
”Come on then!” He said and got out of the car, leaving Bård alone. The absence of the other one's face near to his almost felt like a blow to the stomach.  
  
”Yeah.” He whispered again to no one. He saw Vegard's form walk around the front of the car and head toward the house. Suddenly he became aware of his own lack of existence beside his brother, and he jumped slightly, violently shaking his head to sober his foggy thoughts. ”Shit, what am I doing?” He muttered to himself before getting out of the car and catching up to his older brother with long legs.  
  
Well inside the apartment Vegard bent down to collect the mail that lay on the floor in front of the door. He looked it through and Bård had to clear his throat to make Vegard move out of the way and let him into the apartment. He took off his shoes and jacket and went into the livingroom and started unpacking his computer and the unfinished work.  
  
”Bård?” Vegard called and emerged into the livingroom, still flipping through the mail. Bård mumbled a reply while trying to plug the charger into the computer. ”I'll go to the post office. My new suit arrived.”  
  
”Your suit?” And just like that, Vegard had Bård's attention.  
  
”Yeah, the new suit I ordered three weeks ago, remember?” Of course Bård remembered. How could he forget? Vegard's old suit, the one he wore in I Kveld med Ylvis, was pretty worn out already, and he had wanted to get a new one for a long time already. So he'd asked his friends and brother for help, and they had all stacked up at his place one evening to take a few drinks and discuss different suits. Calle had joked and wanted Vegard to get one in an American cut, with a wide loose waist.  
  
”You're only getting wider!” He'd said and patted Vegard's belly. Magnus and Bård had laughed, and all four had looked through pages and pages of suits on the internet. They had probably been a bit tipsy already, when Vegard had stumbled upon the prettiest suit Bård had ever seen. It was a dark brown Italian cut with shoulder pads. Vegard hadn't been entirely satisfied with it, but Bård had managed to convince him. He had been sure it would be perfect. And still was.  
  
”What time is it?” Vegard's voice snapped Bård back to reality, and just a small shiver shot up his spine when he looked back at his brother who fumbled for his wristwatch. ”Yeah, I'll make it before it closes if I go now. You want to come with, or?”  
  
”No, I'm fine. I need to work anyway so.” Bård answered a bit absently. Vegard studied him for a second.  
  
”Are you okay?” He asked then and Bård nodded reassuringly. ”Okay then, I'll be gone for half an hour. Do you want anything from the store? I should pick up some toilet paper.” He called halfway out of the door. Bård answered he was fine.  
  
The door closed and Bård was left alone in the silence, except for the rain that was tapping against the windows, and the wind that howled in the building. The couch rustled slightly when he moved to pick up a pen and start working. Only his brain wasn't cooperating. He kept thinking of Vegard, and then the dress. Then Vegard _in_ the dress. Oh God, what had he done? He'd known Vegard would look good in the dress, he'd just known that the moment he saw it, but it had never crossed his mind that his brother would most certainly look _sexy_ in that very dress.  
  
 _Maybe I can get him to try it on..._  
  
Much to his confusement and shock his brain wasn't the only thing acting on it's own accord. A shaky hand traveled down to his groin, slowly, and he hissed as the familiar too-good feeling shot through him when he touched the slightly stiffened bulge.  
  
”Shit...” he gasped and grabbed himself hard, massaging his cock through his pants with such force it almost hurt. He bit his lower lip and released an outstretched moan in his throat, and felt it vibrate all the way down to his lungs. Images of Vegard sailed past his closed eyes. Pictures of Vegard smiling, Vegard with messy hair, Vegard welldressed, Vegard singing, Vegard dancing, Vegard with nothing but a towel around his waist and a fresh flush on his moist cheeks after a hot shower...  
  
”Oh, for fuck's sake...” He whispered breathlessly and fumbled with the zipper on his pants. God, he needed to stop this. It wasn't right towards Vegard. Or himself either for that matter. He had to go to work with that man, for god's sake! He would probably never be able to look Vegard in the eyes again. He really needed to stop, he really did...  
  
Instead he found his own hand, slick with sweat, diving in under his boxers and gripping himself hard and stroking up and down in not-so-gentle strokes. It was an ugly game he played with himself, but he felt as if he needed a punishment for his actions. Not a single argument spoke for what he was doing, and still it felt so good. Too good.  
  
He let the other hand slide down inside his pants and between his legs and cupped his balls lightly, giving them two short squeezes. Then it moved on, further down, until one of his long fingers drew over the tightened hole. His breath got stuck in his throat and his mouth widened into a soundless gasp. He'd done that a couple of times, fingered himself, but that was years ago when he'd been an adventurous prick of a teenager. He wasn't so sure that would be a good idea right now. At least definitely not without lube. He wondered if Vegard had any...  
  
”Oh, motherfucking _shit!_ ” He gasped shamelessly at the thought of Vegard slicking himself up. ”This isn't funny anymore!” He groaned and hissed loudly, wrinkling his nose as the heavy breaths escaped his thin lips. He stood up for a moment and dragged the damned pants down to his knees for better mobility. His legs were spread as far apart as his loose jeans let him, and as his pleasure-blurred sight rested on his own lap he saw it. Just for a split second, a vanishingly tiny moment in the vast mass of time he caught a glimpse something, and it flashed and blinded him like a lightning in the blackened sky.  
  
Then it was gone. But it had been enough to send Bård over the slippery edge of pleasure and tumbling down into a pit of burning shame and shallow, fragile bliss.  
  
His head fell back on the headrest, chest heaving with the heavy pants that left his shivering body. Feverishly he tried to recall the image.  
  
The vision of Vegard on his knees between his legs, eyes dark and wet lips closing around his dark red cock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm planning to probably make this a bit longer piece of work because I'm starting to grow fond of it. I've kind of thought out an ending to it already, but I was thinking of making an alternate ending too. Do you think that'd be a good idea? Is there anyone interested in reading two endings? Or should I just keep to one?


	5. The Great Downfall

Painful minutes passed as Bård sat on the couch, head resting on the backrest, hand still wrapped around his limp self. His blue eyes were still big with shock over what had happened, even after his heart had calmed down its frantic beating and his breathing had evened out. He wasn't sure if this was the calm _before_ or _after_ the storm. He didn't want to deal with this now, it was a lot to take in in one go and he couldn't do it.Only one thing was sure; he had hit rock bottom. _That's one great downfall you've got there, Bård Urheim Ylvisåker._  
  
With a grunt and a deep breath he got up from the sofa. He winced at the sticky substance that covered his stomach and hand. Why hadn't he thought of that? He was wearing his favourite grey hoodie, goddamnit. Now he would have to get it washed without his brother seeing it.  
  
With swift strides he made his way over to the toilet, careful not to make a bigger mess of himself. He washed off his slimy hand, grimacing at the sight. He'd never really liked to touch his own cum. He found it a bit repulsing.  
  
Then there was the shirt situation. His pants had fortunately gone unharmed, but the sticky slime had run down along his shirt a bit and even absorbed into the fabric. He bent down to grab some toilet paper to wipe the worst of it off, only to find there was none. _Right,_ he remembered, _Vegard is go_ _ing to_ _buy more._ The thought of Vegard created goosebumps on Bård's arms. God, he had no idea how he was going to handle the situation when Vegard returned.  
  
Careful to not under any circumstances get cum into his face, he slinked out of the hoodie with a grimace on his face. He didn't really know what to do with it, so he just washed it with shower gel under the shower and put it up to dry. Content with the work, he walked back into the living room scratching his bare stomach absent-mindedly. He didn't bother to find another shirt to put on, and just plopped down onto the couch and tried to continue work.  
  
Only ten minutes later the door clicked softly and footsteps sounded in the hallway. Bård's hand stopped in its tracks where it had danced on the paper, idly drafting something pointless. He took a deep breath to calm his rocketing pulse, and then he leaned back in the chair and let his eyes rest on the entrance to the living room.  
  
Soon enough Vegard stepped into his view and he had to swallow hard. The black leather jacket was open despite the cold rainstorm outside, and Vegard's white shirt was soaking wet and clinging to his skin at his chest and tummy. The man's face was wet, and his hair was all over his face, twisting and winding like a thousand black serpents. Vegard didn't waste any time in the cold drenched clothes. He walked straight over to the sofa where Bård sat, dumped down a pack of toilet paper on the floor and a flat cardboard box on the couch and started taking off his clothes. First came off the jacket.  
  
”Fuck that weather, seriously.” He complained while trying to get the shirt off himself. It insisted on sticking to his skin when he pulled it over his head. Bård's eyes traveled over the bared chest and abdomen of his brother, and he barely had the time to look away before his brother caught him looking. ”It could either snow or just stop pouring anything down from there. It's driving me crazy. And I bet I'm not the only one either.” Vegard continued his rant but it quickly dawned upon him that his brother was somewhere far away in own thoughts. He threw the drenched shirt at Bård and the other jumped in surprise. Vegard laughed. ”Are you listening to me at all?”  
  
”Yeah, yeah.” Bård said and looked at his brother quickly. He masked his face with a faked smile. Better just suppress these new thoughts and go along as normal as he could. ”Did you get the suit?”  
  
”Yes I did.” Vegard said matter-of-factly. ”All the way from the factory in Germany in one piece!” Bård chuckled.  
  
”Or straight from the hands of the orphan kids in China.” Vegard swatted him in the back of his blonde head with the cardboard box. ”Ow!”  
  
”You know, sometimes your humor is really stupid and tasteless.” Vegard said but couldn't keep a smile from his lips.  
  
”It has a lot in common with you then.” Bård choked a laughter and shielded himself from another hit by lifting his arms to his face. ”Ow! Ow, stop!”  
  
It ended with the two of them wrestling each other on the sofa, Vegard on top of Bård, until they both flipped down on the floor and laughed too much to continue messing around. Bård lay on his bare stomach, face turned to look at Vegard who lay at his side, his bare back pressed against the cold wooden surface, and his feet across Bård's back. They looked at each other while their breaths evened out in the shallow silence, light blue eyes met dark brown, and identical smiles bounced off of each other.  
  
”Are you done beating me now, you awful excuse of a big brother?” Bård asked, his cheek mushed up against the floor in a way that made his words slur a bit.  
  
”Maybe.” Vegard answered with a smile that made Bård keep his breath for a second. How had he never noticed the raw beauty that his brother's face held before? Was he blind or what? ”If you behave like a decent human being.”  
  
”I _always_ behave like a decent human being.” Bård announced proudly and tried to push himself up, only to be pushed back down by his brother's legs on his back. He looked over at Vegard confusedly and spotted the cheeky smirk on the other one's face.  
  
”No you don't. You're a prick, Bård Ylvisåker. Constantly jumping on everyone's nerves like a monkey high on mangoes. Good for you that you're so cute.”  
  
For a second they just lay there, staring at each other in disbelief, both equally surprised over the words that had just left Vegard's lips. Vegard had complimented him, yes, but never on his appearance. Ever.  
  
”Was that a compliment?” Bård asked with uncertainty playing in his vibrant voice. Vegard looked lost.  
  
”I guess?” He mumbled and it was more of a question that an answer. Bård had absolutely no clue on how to react, so he reacted in the most Bård-ish way imaginable.  
  
”Because it was a really shitty one. That's for sure.” The trick had it's hoped effect and Vegard burst out laughing, followed closely by his brother. Their laughter killed the awkwardness and their eyes rested on each other again with clearly displayed affection.  
  
”Come on, let me see you in the suit so I can call you something equally ridiculous.” Bård said and motioned for his brother to let him up. After all, he hadn't entirely forgotten his former thoughts. He really _needed_ to see Vegard in that suit.  
  
”Now?” Vegard asked and stood up, extending a hand towards his brother to pull him on his long feet. Bård dusted off his pants with his palms.  
  
”Yeah, why not? Just to check if it fits.” Vegard thought about it for a second.  
  
”Well, I was actually thinking of going to sleep soon.” He admitted as he looked at his watch. ”It's pretty late already, and we have to get up early tomorrow.”  
  
”Come on, just quickly.” Bård said and grabbed his brother's shoulder reassuringly. He knew he was good at persuading Vegard.  
  
”Fine.” Vegard sighed at last and a faint smile played with his lips. ”I didn't know you were so eager to see me in it.” He said jokingly and hit his brother playfully in the shoulder. Bård laughed and turned away to head to the kitchen.  
  
”You have no idea.” He mumbled when he was out of earshot from his brother.  
  
Actually Bård had no idea. No idea of what he actually wanted to achieve with this. He needed to collect his thoughts for a second, and leaned on the kitchen counter and closed his blue eyes to take a few deep breaths. He could hear Vegard rustling around in the living room, probably undressing this very moment. Oh god, he could not get aroused in Vegard's presence. That was just wrong and strange. _Sick_.  
  
Suddenly he became aware of the silence that surrounded him. Carefully he opened one eye, and from the corner of his eye he could see Vegard standing at the door of the kitchen, watching him with an amused expression on his face.  
  
”Are you coming or not?” Bård jerked slightly and cleared his throat before looking to his brother.  
  
”Yeah, I just needed to...”  
  
”Shut up.” Vegard said playfully as he buttoned the last few buttons on the white shirt. ”You wanted to see me in this, so you better appreciate my effort.” Vegard paced back to the sofa, Bård following with his eyes firmly on the older one's back. Vegard put the jacket on and Bård had to muffle a grunt. He looked astonishing. The brown material was soft and fit him perfectly, snug around his waist yet not creating folds or wrinkles.The warm shade matched his deep eyes. It was almost too good to be true.  
  
Vegard huffed and moved his arms slightly to test the mobility. Then he walked to the narrow hallway where he had a full-length mirror.  
  
”It's quite okay actually.” He called back at Bård. ”They didn't send a new tie with it though. I'd like to see how it looks with a tie, but I have them all at the office.” That was when Bård snapped awake from his daze.  
  
”You can borrow mine.” He said and went through one of his bags on the living room floor. The black silky tie ran through his fingers as he held it in his hands. He looked at it absent-mindedly, and suddenly Vegard stood right in front of him, dark eyes trying to catch his blue.  
  
”Are you sure you're okay, Bård? You look a little off.”  
  
”Yes, I'm totally fine.” Bård answered with a smile. His eyes dropped quickly to the tie before it flew back to Vegard's face. ”Let me put this on you, hm?” Vegard made a small sound of approval and Bård stepped a little closer to wrap the tie around his neck. Vegard lifted his chin slightly to allow Bård better access. Bård could swear he felt Vegard's breath against his face. He concentrated hard to keep his hands from shaking and his own breath from faltering. Vegard let out a soft snort at his brother's concentrated look and the fumbling hands at his throat.  
  
”Problem?” He asked mockingly.  
  
”Shut up.” Bård mumbled and furrowed his brow more. It was getting exceedingly more difficult to keep his thoughts straight. Finally he got the tie ready, and carefully he adjusted it around Vegard's neck. To his surprise his hands wouldn't come off his brother when he was finished, no matter how hard he tried. The other hand traveled to rest on his brother's chest while the other still held onto the collar of Vegard's shirt. The older one's mouth opened to say something, but Bård was first.  
  
”You look beautiful.” He whispered hollowly, and Vegard laughed a little until it dawned upon him that this wasn't a part of the joke from earlier. Bård meant it.  
  
Bård's eyes broke contact with Vegard's and moved up to Vegard's hair. It had dried a bit from its earlier soaked state, and was now becoming even fluffier that before. Bård's hands went up to try and fix it a bit. He acted without knowing what he did, his brain had locked up and he could only feel the breaths of the other against his chin. He ruffled Vegard's hair lightly, playing with the black strands, until their eyes locked again. Bård's almost steady hands wavered, slowed down until they came to a soft halt at the back of Vegard's neck. He didn't mean to do that. No, really, he didn't. It was just that Vegard's eyes distracted him. A lot.  
  
”Shit.” he breathed, and it was indeed more of a breath than a word, and Vegard parted his lips as that breath hit his face softly. _Double shit,_ he thought.  
  
And he leaned in, finally, breathing over the other one's lips one last time. And they kissed.  
  
It was fast as a lightning and blew through him fiery hot. Their lips merely ghosted on each other, sensitive skin meeting it's like. It was a ghost kiss. The ghost of all that was wrong and forbidden and awful, of all that was never meant to be, that was biologically incorrect and prohibited by the evolving of the human, and it felt odd and wrong and disgusting and – _oh –_ his breath caught in his throat. It felt so _good._  
  
Vegard was the one to withdraw, his eyes huge and face beautifully flushed as he stared into his little brother's eyes. And God, those eyes were fantastic. That feeling you get when you are falling in a dream, heavily making your way through darkness, just seconds before crashing into what's underneath, that gut-wrenching claw that grabs you and holds you so tight you feel out of breath, the feeling that makes you jump in your sleep and break free from your dream, that was the feeling he got when he gazed into those blue pools with pupils dilated by adrenaline and excitement.The newborn word's he had on his tongue drowned in his dry mouth.  
  
Bård went in again, and their lips crashed together softly but firmly. This time they felt more encouraged as they explored the soft lips of each other. Bård's hands pulled slightly at Vegard's neck to bring them closer to each other, and the older brother's hands moved without his consent, settling at Bård's slender hips. It wasn't soon before a hot, wet tongue slid over Vegard's closed lips, only nudging them gently, but it was enough for Vegard to gasp and part his lips. Instead of entering the other one's mouth, Bård continued kissing him to the corner of his panting lips, and further down along his jawline. At the base of Vegard's ear he stopped, face buried in the older one's dark curls.  
  
”What are we doing?” He whispered a little out of breath. The puff of breath caused Vegard to exhale and unwillingly whimper almost soundlessly. A cascade of shivers shot through Bård's spine then and there, and he saw a thousand colours sparkling in the darkening room. He kissed Vegard's neck in a sudden fit of lust, his teeth left the faintest of traces, only to be soothed by a burning tongue.  
  
”Bård...” Vegard sighed pleadingly before his hands moved up to Bård's face to cup his cheeks. Vegard kissed him, licked his lips and demanded entrance. And in that moment he felt it. His heart skipped a beat. Or maybe two, he was too busy to count.

He knew. This was what their lives had been building up to. What countless years, months, weeks, days had been pushing them forward to, two unknowing kids in the arms of the world. It was all coming down to this. The moment that was now.

There was no room for regret, no space for second thoughts. All reason had left them. They were alone. Two fools, alone together. It was now it would either bear them, give them white wings and lift them above all other things until they became invincible, untouchable to all other that could harm them. Or it would bend and break and throw them into a black abyss to fall simultaneously, but so far from each other.

A spark was all that was needed for the beacon to be lit, and it would shine with a blending light, like their eyes shone in the dim glow of the approaching night. In that shimmer they would never be lost, not as long as their eyes rested on each other.

”We shouldn't do this.” Vegard panted as he leaned his head so that their foreheads rested against each other's. Bård smiled at him and light breaths landed on his face.

”Why are we doing it then?” He whispered and kissed Vegard lightly, and a thumb ghosted over his lips where the kiss had been planted. He knew his older brother had no answer to that, he knew he had won this round. Vegard whimpered slightly towards his lips, and Bård's hands moved down along the smooth fabric. Vegard shivered as the long fingers tickled his skin underneath the hem of the jacket where the white shirt was badly tucked into his pants.  
  
”Bård, stop...” Vegard whispered and closed his eyes and shivered violently. Bård wouldn't stop. The danger of it made him excited and aroused. He wanted this, and he'd be damned if his brother didn't too. ”Bård, let me go. This isn't right.” Vegard tried again but his lips were quickly caught in an annoyed kiss. Bård sucked and licked on his brother's lower lip, earning small whimpers and sobs from the other one.  
  
”Tell me you've never done anything against the rules in your life, Vegard, and I will let you go.” He whispered threateningly against Vegard's swollen lips. Vegard only exhaled sharply and Bård smirked. _Round two won._ ”Didn't think so either.” He said with a smirk and pressed his body closer to Vegard and let his hands slide behind him to rest on the small of his back. Slowly he applied some pressure on Vegard's back, pushing their lower bodies against each other lightly. Vegard gasped and his eyes widened as he felt the barely evident bump against his hip. He couldn't believe it, didn't want to believe it. His brother couldn't be aroused by him, by their kissing. That was not happening. He wanted to live in denial, wanted to escape the situation, but Bård's firm hands held him there, present at that very moment. He wanted to get away, but even more he wanted to move his hips, to feel that bump roll against him. But Bård wouldn't allow that either.  
  
”What's this now?” Bård asked slightly mockingly when he noticed the tiny twitches Vegard's body was involuntarily doing against his body. He hoisted a cocky eyebrow at Vegard who was reddening again. He was like a sunset under his gaze, vivid colours changing on his smooth skin. ”You're enjoying this?”  
  
”Just let me go.” Vegard pleaded again, not meeting Bård's eyes. Bård thought about it for a second. His own mind had gone dark, only one thing was in his focus. He was like the predator with its eyes fixed on the prey. Maybe he could actually get to it without scaring it, to get to Vegard without scaring him. It was possible, he saw a clear path which led to this new goal of his. He just had to be careful not to slip on the treacherous stones.  
  
”Fine.” He said and lifted his hands and backed off. Skillfully he hid the smirk that was born when he saw the more than evident disappointment that appeared for no longer than a second in Vegard's eyes. The older brother turned around and walked to the sofa. He took off the jacket and folded it into the box again. A second he hesitated with taking off the pants, shooting a quick shy glance at his brother who stood further away eyeing him, and then he decided to go for it. Quickly the brown pants came off and were folded into the box. Bård's lips parted involuntarily at the sight of the half-naked man before him. He knew it was so wrong, but God, how could he not enjoy it? Vegard pulled on his jeans again and sat down on the couch, not really knowing what to do now. Bård looked at him with a soft smile.  
  
”You should go to sleep, you know.” He said and Vegard's slightly nervous eyes met his, but no answer left his lips. Bård only shrugged and went to sit beside his brother. He spread his long legs a little too far apart, so that his thigh lay pressed against Vegard's. The older man shifted slightly but didn't move away. Bård pretended not to notice the whole thing.  
  
Half an hour went by in a tense silence except from the sounds from the TV that Bård turned on. Vegard yawned repeatedly and eased himself discreetly into a lying position. Bård shot small glances at him now and then, noticing how his face became more and more absent for every minute. He smiled softly at the warming feeling that pumped through his veins as he looked at his brother. He was almost sure he knew this feeling.

 _This_ _is_ _it then,_ he thought. Their lives would be pretty much changed now, that was sure. He didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing, though the small part of him that still made any sense in this storm of new emotions dared to whisper it would be a disaster that would end in no good. He didn't want to believe it, not now, not when his brother lay beside him like that, vulnerable, guards let down. Vegard's breathing had evened out drastically. He lay perfectly still.

When Bård had made sure his brother had fallen asleep, he zapped the TV off and got up to retrieve a blanket from a cabinet to put on Vegard. Then he sat down beside his brother on the small couch again. He picked up the pen from where he had put it earlier that evening, and started scribbling with smooth movements in the dim lighting. He had work to do.

_I_ _t wasn't enough for you to hit bottom by yourself, huh? You had to drag him into it as well?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I didn't let someone down, as I kind of promised there would be something a little more in chapter 5. Sorry about that. I did write out a more explicit scene, but I feel like that would come on a bit too quickly. I don't want to rush it. It will come eventually, I just want to give the boys a little time to adjust :P Hope you liked it anyway.


	6. Stormbringer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plans kind of took on some unexpected turns and I'm not sure about the double ending anymore. It might be that I go back to the same beginning (aka until about now) and write a whole different story of it after I've finished this. I feel like I should focus only on one story at a time to give it my best. But I'll see about that, I'm not really anywhere close to finish with this anyway.  
> Also as school has started again I really won't have nearly the same amount of time to write, but I will try to update once a week.  
> I hope you enjoy!

His neck ached and he was cold all over his body. He was slightly hungry too.  
  
Those were the first things that hit his consciousness. The first things reaching his perception after a deep dark sleep. The primary needs of any living creature. It didn't feel good, but afterwards he would've given anything for it to stay that way.

Then came all the rest, crashing onto him like the weight of an endless sea against an ancient cliff. It pushed and pulled at him, twisted him and burned him until he was sure he couldn't take any more. The feelings inside him were strangling him, his stomach was hanging itself in his bowels. It was remorse and shame and anger and fear all mixed up into a big lump in his throat. Self-loathing.

He lay on the uncomfortable couch for a long time, not bothering to get up, not bothering to check the time. Why had he slept on the sofa anyway? The white ceiling stared down at him mercilessly, whispering vicious words and making him remember all the details from yesterday.  
  
With a shuddering breath he dared his eyes away from the ceiling and turned his head slightly. There was no trace of Bård. All his bags were gone, as well as his computer, calendar and phone. Vegard felt as if he was about to throw up. Had it all been a dream after all?

But his bitter hopes died out as quickly as a lamb surrounded by hungry wolves, as a sound emerged from the direction of Vegard's bedroom. It wasn't long before Bård's slender figure stepped into the doorway, only clad in his boxers, hair ruffled up into a messy ball on his head. He stretched his long limbs and his rib-cage was visible under the moving skin. When he was done he walked into the living room and shot a smile at Vegard.  
  
”Good morning.” He said cheerily and walked straight to the kitchen. Vegard wanted to scream. He wanted to grab Bård's shoulders and shake him violently, try to make him understand their situation. He couldn't just go around pretending that nothing had happened, or that what had happened was okay. Because it was not.

Vegard could hear Bård putting the coffee-machine on and opening and closing the fridge quickly. Soon he walked out of the kitchen, one hand buried in his uncontrollable hair, the other clutching a half-peeled banana. He was uglily chewing on the yellow mush with his mouth open. Vegard rose to a sitting position to give him a murderous look but he only shrugged.  
  
”Fine, be a grumpy asshat then.” He said, clearly provoking his brother a bit. Vegard felt the anger running through his hot veins. How could he act like that? ”You should get up. We have a show to shoot, and it's not a Halloween episode so, you know...” He pointed at his own face and did a grimace. ”Do something about your... _that_.” He smirked contently and Vegard jolted up aggressively as a whole new level of anger lent him energy.  
  
Vegard boiled inwardly, both from the hot shame that was devouring him like a fire, but also from the wild anger and disappointment towards Bård. He didn't speak to his little brother one word that morning. The atmosphere was tense, it was as if a million tiny sparks - aimed to kill - flew between them whenever they were in the same room. Even their team at Riksscenen picked up on the negative vibes between them, casting them confused glances, yet nobody asked them about it. Well, nobody except Calle.  
  
”What the hell is wrong with you two?” The blonde man banged his fists on the host's desk when there was a short pause in the filming. He stood right in front of Bård, who only shrugged and drank from his glass. ”You look like an old couple who disagree on whether to go to the senior yoga or to a knitting course.” Bård huffed into his glass, water staining his nose, and Vegard looked to the floor as he felt his cheeks reddening. Calle wasn't close on the track, but he wasn't too far from hitting home either. Much closer than what Vegard wanted to admit.  
  
”I'm perfectly fine.” Bård said and smiled at Calle. ”Don't know what's wrong with him though. He's been like that the whole morning.” Bård nudged Vegard in the shoulder and Vegard's head snapped to look at him. ”See?” Bård addressed Calle and extended his arms in a extremely annoying manner. ”He's ready to attack me any second.” Vegard wanted so much to agree on that, maybe give a little demonstration too, but the director motioned to them to get ready to continue.  
  
”Fifteen seconds!” He shouted. Calle shook his head and went back to his seat.  
  
”Sometimes I just don't know with you two...” He mumbled.  
  
The rest of the shooting went okay. Vegard managed to keep up his usual silly, happy public self, and even his angry temper went down a little. He could almost agree to having had fun. There was one slight mishap, when Bård drank from his glass and was to put it back on the desk, but instead dropped it on the floor, five inches beside the desk, right onto Vegard's shoe. It had quickly been laughed off as an accident, and the mood had gone back to what it had been before, though Vegard hadn't been entirely able to exclude it from his mind. He could've sworn it was some odd attempt to piss his brother off even more, had it not been for the utterly confused look on Bård's face as the director shouted cut.

The laughter and noise went up again, and the interviews were as good as ever. It was when the last shoot came to its end and their small ending-dance was done that his bad mood returned. And it endured stubbornly through the dinner they ate with the team. He was endlessly annoyed at how cheery and careless Bård was, and the amount of alcohol his brother was consuming while he couldn't. He had to drive home, _of course,_ because Bård had some unspoken privilege which determined it was him who got to have the fun while his brother just had to stand and take the dull side of life.  
  
Vegard wouldn't have wanted anything more than to get up and go home, leave his brother there with the others, laughing and smiling like there had never been a better day. But he knew better than to do that. He would have a million texts and phonecalls clogging his phone, and an extremely pissed Bård for half a week as a bonus. He knew from experience.  
  
So when they finally got home, Bård was so drunk Vegard had to physically grab him and hold him up - which made him cringe - and lead him in. He walked his brother over to the sofa with clenched jaws, tired and angry and frustrated. Bård crashed down, giggling in his drunk way with his nose all scrunched up and eyes squinting.  
  
”Vegard.” He laughed between the hiccups and Vegard tried to ignore him, but failed. ”Vegard! Look at me, Vegard!” His face was shining as he grinned up at his sour brother, and his cheeks had that drunken flush Vegard knew from countless late nights. However now, the blonde man had made a ring with the thumb and index finger of his left hand, boldly prodding the forefinger of his other hand through the hole. ”Should we...?” He asked and tried to wink but failed because of the current level of alcohol in his blood, and ended up blinking with his both eyes simultaneously. Vegard froze and stared at his brother for a second as the weight of the guilt and shame came tumbling down again. He would surely have laughed, had not those things happened yesterday.  
  
”Bård, stop...” He whispered pleadingly. Bård spread his limbs out on the couch.  
  
”Sex...” Bård mused, making a hissing sound out of the slurring word. ”Sex, sex, sex. Don't you want it, Vegard? Aren't you horny at all?” Vegard wanted to shout at his brother, make him stop, give him a lecture, but he knew his efforts would ring to deaf ears in Bård's current state. Instead he was silent. Bård held up one finger as if to make his point clear. ”You know, I noticed one thing yesterday. Do you know what that is, Vegard? I noticed -” he was interrupted by a hiccup and a burp. ”I noticed how it's _so_ much easier to tell if a boy is aroused than a girl.” He made a pause, just scanning Vegard's face, nodding slightly while his drunken tongue licked the back of his front teeth. Vegard swallowed and begged Bård to stop in his mind, hoping telepathy would work. He didn't want to heart this. He was too fully aware of it already, and it was painful to him. But Bård was the rain outside, ever ongoing. ”And I noticed something interesting yesterday. Something interesting against my thigh...” It was enough for Vegard. He felt like breaking, tearing apart at the middle, and without another word he walked into his bedroom and slammed the door shut. He could hear Bård calling for him from the other room. Giggling grunts and hiccups were carried to his tired ears through the thin door, and a sudden crash followed by more laughter. He had probably fallen off the sofa. Vegard wouldn't have been surprised.

What he was surprised about was Bård's mood. He was that sulky, sad kind of drunk, the more he drank the more he hated his life. Today he had been the shining opposite, all smiles and clear eyes, and it seemed a bit odd to Vegard. Certainly out of the ordinary. Everyone else had naturally been too wasted to notice. God, Vegard felt so alone.  
  
He leaned back at the door and before closing his eyes he noticed all Bård's things were on the floor of his room. _He's planning to stay._ He felt so incredibly tired and drained and guilty. Bård was still calling him, and it sounded like he was crawling on the floor, trying to make his way to the door. He still giggled occasionally, but the tone wasn't careless anymore, more melancholy actually, as if he had been rejected. Slowly it went from cheery calls to incoherent pleas to sad mumbling. Vegard's face had twisted into an expressing conveying hurt and sadness. His anger had died now and he wanted to go out there and check on his brother who almost certainly lay sprawled out just outside his door. It sounded as if Bård was sobbing, which he probably was. That was more like the drunken Bård Vegard knew.  
  
Vegard went to bed and tried to shut out the weak pleas coming from the other side of his door. He hated to hear his brother like that, begging him weakly for help. It reminded him of their childhood, with the exception that now Bård wouldn't actually reach his bed and crawl up at his side by his own, and Vegard wouldn't much want a smelly drunkard mauling his ribs either. _How times change,_ he thought as he changed from one side to another for the millionth time, still trying to escape into the dreams. Bård's cries died out eventually, though he had lasted pretty long in that state. Vegard was alone, listening to his own breaths in the dark room, and the soft rain swatted against his window. _Three weeks in a row now,_ Vegard thought about the rain. The storm out there might be over now, though the drizzle still went on, but he knew the tempest inside his head had only just begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was really short and still no sexy parts, I'm sorry! I promise the next will be longer!  
> I also want to thank all of you for your nice comments and kudos and views! It's really heartwarming, especially as this is my first ever published piece of work. You guys are essentially what keeps me motivated and going. So thank you!


	7. The End of the World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was partly inspired/influenced by the songs Det' okay and Alt er forbi by the Danish duo Noah. The lyrics are fantastic, sorry for them who doesn't understand Danish. You can just listen to the melody and get the general mood, if you want. For you who understands Danish (or Swedish or Norwegian for that matter), good for you! :P
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Vegard woke to a warm breath against his face. It smelled bad, mostly alcohol. His eyes flew open and met a pair of light blue ones only inches from his own. He stared confusedly, a million attempts at an explanation shooting through his head like fireworks in a frozen night.  
  
”Hey.” Bård whispered and his voice was fragile and raspy after being silent for many hours. It made Vegard uneasy.  
  
”Why are you here?” He breathed weakly, still not really aware of everything after just having woken up. Bård must have made it to his bed at some point during the night. The blonde man sighed through his nose and got up on one of his elbows, slightly leaning over Vegard, yet not too much to intimidate him. There was an odd look on his face, one that Vegard only could describe as a mixture of uncertainty and concern. He had never seen that look on Bård before.  
  
”Look, Vegard...” Bård said and cleared his throat. He looked like a lost child, obviously not knowing how to proceed. He probably hoped for Vegard to cut in and save him like he always did in awkward interviews and such. But Vegard couldn't help him out this time. Bård drew a deep breath and tried to steady his voice. ”We – we need to talk.”  
  
”Yeah?” Vegard snapped unexpectedly. Suddenly his brain reacted to the situation. ”Damn right we need to talk. But it's not happening here! Get out of my bed!” Vegard shoved Bård aggressively in the chest and his little brother flopped down on his back on the white sheets. There was sadness and distress in his face, desperation even, but Vegard was too busy fumbling to get himself up to notice. He stood on shaky legs, and pulled on a pair of dirty old sweat pants from many days ago. He wanted to shoot Bård a furious glare and shout at him from the top of his lungs, but he couldn't trust neither the hot tears behind his eyes, nor the trembling words in his throat which surely would crumble apart if voiced. Instead he avoided Bård's gaze and hissed the words through gritted teeth. ”Are you deaf? Get out!” Bård didn't react and Vegard only sighed frustratedly, trying to keep the burning tears at bay. He bent down to pick up a worn grey t-shirt from the floor and put it on while angrily walking towards the door. He needed to get away. He needed to get air.  
  
However, now Bård had snapped to life. Quicker than a lightning he shot up from the bed and stood in the doorway, blocking Vegard's only escape. The older brother stopped abruptly in front of Bård.  
  
”Out of my way.” Vegard hissed without meeting Bård's dull eyes. The taller man wouldn't move. He didn't really want to do this. Vegard trembled visibly, and Bård knew the look Vegard had on his face before crumbling. He knew the way Vegard's jaws clenched repeatedly before his mind was launched into panic.  
  
”Vegard-” he extended a hand, but Vegard hit it away aggressively.  
  
”Out of my way!” He shouted now, angrily, desperately, and his voice was forced as he exhaled sharply. A violent shove was directed towards Bård's bare chest when he wouldn't obey. Bård barely kept his balance, and when Vegard tried to forcefully push his body past him he extended his arms and locked them around his shaking brother. The screams made his heart ache.  
  
”Don't touch me! Let me go, you fucking wanker! Let me go! I hate you, let go of me!” And it went on and on for minutes. Bård struggled to keep him close to himself. His brother had some strength, Bård had to give him that, but he wasn't used to having to deal with Vegard using that strength.  
  
In the end Vegard exhausted himself, and Bård thanked every god there was for that. Vegard sobbed weakly against Bård's chest now, still pleading him to let go of him. But whether he had noticed it himself or not, his hands were clutching at Bård's back, short nails digging into his brother's skin.  
  
”Shh, Vegard.” Bård hushed him silently as he pressed his lips on the top of the curly head. ”It's okay, we'll get through this.” Vegard was drawing shaky breaths, and as Bård looked upon his face, the brown eyes were red and swollen. Their eyes locked and Bård clutched Vegard's shoulders reassuringly. ”We'll get through this.”  
  
Bård directed the slightly shaky brother to the couch. Vegard had calmed down now and only stared in front of himself with empty eyes. This fit of anger went pretty smoothly along the lines of every other, though this had been a tad more violent. Anger and despair had gone, now was the time for sadness and then the making up. Bård sat down beside him and put a hesitating hand on his knee. Vegard flinched slightly and turned his tired face towards Bård. He looked drained.  
  
”Vegard.” Bård began with a deep breath. ”What happened the other day-”  
  
”What happened the other day can't happen again.” Vegard stated. Bård seemed to have forgotten about yesterday completely. _Too drunk,_ Vegard deducted, and decided to let it slip. There was a cold restraint in his voice as he spoke, and a false sense of calm drew over his face. ”Not once.” Bård swallowed and his hand came off Vegard's leg. Vegard drew another breath and it betrayed his inner state. He might have seemed cold and composed, but inside he was a wreck. ”You need to move out.”

Bård's eyes widened with surprise and disbelief.  
  
”What?”  
  
”You heard me.” Vegard answered, slightly shaking his head. He seemed determined.  
  
”But I'm-”  
  
”No, don't you understand?” Vegard said with exasperation in his stabilizing voice. ”We share the same family, we share the same background. We share the same damn job, offer hours upon hours to each other every damn day. We share the same friends. The same compliments, the same conversations. Same hometown. Hell, we even share the same middle-name!” Vegard laughed but there was absolutely no amusement in his hollow tones. ”But this is something we can't share, Bård. I think we should be apart for some time.” It came as a blow to the stomach. Bård felt lost and exposed. He'd been told to fuck off a couple of times in his life, but this somehow felt a lot different. Probably because it was. This was serious.  
  
”But what about work?” He asked, totally goalless.  
  
”I didn't mean for it to sound terminal, of course. Sorry if it came across that way.” Vegard was quick to add. ”We're supposed to finish the last shootings of the show in three weeks, right? Well I think we can speed it up if we are effective and finish it in two weeks instead. Then we'll be free until Christmas when mom and dad probably want to gather the family. We'll take up the work again after that.” The tone in Vegard's words hurt Bård more than anything. It wasn't angry anymore, or sad even. It was formal, as if speaking to a stranger or a boss. It wasn't friendly and showed no emotion. The difference to Vegard's normal way of talking was huge and it intimidated Bård.  
  
”But where am I supposed to go?” He whispered. He felt like a small boy again, alone and fragile like he had once when he had got lost in a big supermarket when he was seven years old. That time Vegard had come running for him and hugged him so tight. Vegard had saved him. Only this time, Vegard was the one pushing him away, and he would have to save himself.  
  
”You have filed for an apartment, right?”  
  
 _No, I didn't because I thought I'd be able to stay with you.  
  
_ ”Yeah.”  
  
 _Liar._  
  
”Then you should probably get one within weeks. You could call Calle, ask if you could stay at his place in the meantime. Or you could stay at a hotel. I can lend you money if you need, though I don't think either of us run short of money now.”  
  
 _Vegard, I can't do this._ _  
  
_”Okay.” Bård said and his voice was hollow.  
  
 _Not okay._  
  
”Okay.” Vegard looked at his brother's sulking form. His eyes showed shallow indifference, but deep within he knew nothing but sorrow. He had never turned down his brother like this. Sure they'd had bad times, all siblings had, but it had never been this bad. ”Good.” It wasn't good.  
  
Bård dressed himself and packed a bit. Vegard prepared breakfast for them both. It was six in the morning when their discussion had ended, and they were going to work in about an hour. Bård would come back to Vegard's after work and pack the rest, and Vegard would drive him either to Calle or to a hotel.  
  
The day went surprisingly well when considering the things between the brothers. They didn't talk to each other, wouldn't even look at each other, unless necessary in terms of the job. Vegard spotted Bård many times during the day. He seemed to work little and socialize a lot. He seemed like a completely different person than this morning, smiling and laughing. He resembled his old self, and Vegard couldn't help but wonder if he was too harsh on his brother. He almost pitied him, without really knowing why. He tried to tell himself he was doing the necessary, tried to convince himself he was playing the mature part in this game. Why did he feel so little and helpless all the same?  
  
In the end of the day the two met at Vegard's car. They both nodded and mumbled something for a greeting, small smiles ghosted their lips all the while. Only Bård's was genuine. Vegard found himself thinking of how beautiful Bård was as they drove along the dark road. He seemed eager to talk, Vegard had no idea why, and he chattered about anything and everything while Vegard listened carefully. He couldn't help but wonder what went through Bård's head. Was he trying to make Vegard change his mind and let him stay? Or had the awful things actually been reduced to what was before? That easily?  
  
In the end of the ride Bård grew silent again. But it wasn't an awkward silence, or a tense one. It was _their_ silence, the same silence they had shared so many nights when both had been too scared or too tired to speak, and later became that silence that reigned when nothing else was needed. Now they were both too scared and too tired.  
  
Bård packed his things without a word. He didn't seem angry or even sad. Vegard didn't really understand, and the pure indifference even hurt him a bit, though he would never admit that. He couldn't understand the total change in Bård since the morning. It seemed so odd and somehow very off. Very much unlike Bård.  
  
He was all packed up and ready to go, and Vegard started putting on his clothes. Bård hadn't asked Calle about being able to live with him for a while, he hadn't wanted to intrude on yet another person's life. He was going to stay at one of the hotels in Oslo, and Vegard had promised to drive him there earlier. Now, however, Bård insisted on walking there by himself.  
  
”What do you mean 'walk'? You can't possibly walk over there with all those bags!” Vegard exclaimed with a confused wrinkle on his brow. Bård shrugged.  
  
”Please, just let me do this, okay? I want to do it my way.” There was the slightest slur in his words, and Vegard would've sworn he was drunk hadn't his eyes been resting on practically every action his brother had done that evening. ”Please?”  
  
”Alright, but I really don't understand-”  
  
”Life is full of mysteries, isn't it?” Bård said and looked his brother in the eyes. Vegard could have sworn there was the tiniest spark of sadness looming in his beautiful blue eyes before it was skillfully masked with a genuinely warm smile. The younger brother turned to open the door when he suddenly froze. Vegard watched him where he stood, other hand on the door-handle, and he was unsure if he had seen right. There was the slightest tremble on Bård's hand.  
  
”Is everything alright?” Vegard asked and his voice was hollow with concern. Bård turned around slowly as if he was worried he would pass out.  
  
”My shirt.” He whispered and the earlier smile had turned into dread. There was almost panic in his eyes. ”My gray shirt. It's not in my bags.” Vegard chuckled stupidly, really not understanding anything anymore. Bård was acting weirder than ever before.  
  
”Where is it then?”  
  
”I don't know.” He looked like he was ready to break down. ”I don't remember.”  
  
”Wait, it isn't the one hanging in the bathroom, is it?” Vegard was already on his way to get the shirt from where it was hung to dry since a couple of days ago. He'd wondered why it was there but hadn't asked about it, assuming his brother had a good reason for it. When he emerged from the bathroom, gray hoodie in his hands, Bård looked like his knees were going to crumble underneath him. He looked so incredibly relieved to see his hoodie and Vegard almost laughed when he grabbed for it with fumbling fingers. ”Is there anything else you've forgotten where you've put it?” Bård shook his head like a kid while shoving the favourite hoodie into one of his bags.  
  
”No, I'm good.”  
  
”What was that anyway?”  
  
”What was what?”  
  
”You looked like you saw a ghost.”

  
”That was... nothing.” Bård said hastily and turned to open the door again. ”So, we'll see each other at work tomorrow then?”  
  
”Yeah.” Vegard answered silently. He actually felt sad for kicking out his brother like this. He felt guilty.  
  
”Bye then.”  
  
”Bye. Good night.” _I love you._  
  
Vegard blinked stupidly at the closed door, desperately wishing he could run out into the staircase and call for Bård to come back. Instead he ran over to the kitchen and looked out the window which showed him the whole street underneath. He exhaled silently at the view before him, and it was as if the time came to a halt and the world stood still. There were no cars outside, and no people walked on the streets. The streetlights illuminated the darkening evening with a cold eerie light. But what made Vegard's breath catch in his throat were the tiny snowflakes which sailed down in a steady pace, like parachute jumpers slowly descending towards a certain death. They sparkled beautifully in the cool light. No stars were visible in the black sky, or maybe these were them falling? In the cascade of soft feathery snow, there walked a form. Hunched under the weight of several big bags, Bård walked slowly away from Vegard without looking back. Vegard stood there, silently watching with an unmouthed plea in his eyes, until Bård was gone. Slowly he became aware of his own reflection staring back at him in the glass. He blinked at the tired face a couple of times and he understood.  
  
The only thing that stood between himself and Bård, was he.  
  
 _Would you be with me?_ _Would you take care of me, let's say, until I died? Would you stay with me until the end?_  
  
He had promised. But if the world was to come to an end tonight, he would have to break that promise.

And he realized his world began with Bård, and ended with Bård.  
  
”I'm so sorry.” He whispered, jaws clenching, before he crumbled soundlessly, and the night loomed above him and kept guard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also I'd need some help from someone who knows Norway to some extent. Does anybody know some nice little place, not like a city or anything, on the western coast of Norway? A place where you could have a cottage. Preferably a bit above Bergen. Thanks!


	8. Stating Bullshit

Vegard was quick to realize that time was an ongoing concept. It was incorruptible and steady, one of the few things to rely on in an untrustworthy place like life. It wouldn't stop even though the world had ended.  
  
The producers frowned but let them change the schedule and finish the filming one week earlier, with the exception of the UNICEF-episode which was a live broadcast episode set to a specific date. The brothers and their team faced two weeks of hard and draining work with too much conferences and coffee and way too little sleep. In the tumult and rush Vegard and Bård had little time to interact with each other in any other matter than work. Things started slowly to feel like normal, like nothing had happened. To Vegard it almost felt like this post-apocalyptic world was a new opportunity to live a normal life.  
  
There was almost two months left to Christmas when the last I Kveld med Ylvis episode was shot, and the brothers went about their separate lives as normally as they could. Vegard found it difficult sometimes, even unbearable, not to know what the other one was doing or how his things were. Sometimes he had to remind himself that he was an individual, leading an own life, and not one half of a whole.  
  
They heard little from each other, mostly only through their mother which both spoke with on a regular basis.  
  
”It's so sad you two have to be like that to each other.” She said with a pitying tone, and it was probably the fifteenth time she said that during the phone call. Of course she didn't know the whole truth of the situation, their mom and dad only thought they had a fight. Vegard rolled his eyes. ”But I know you will eventually make peace with each other.” She added cheerfully and Vegard muttered a halfhearted response. ”Oh, and I expect you haven't heard about his sight?”  
  
”No, I haven't. What's wrong with his sight?” Vegard asked a bit disinterestedly. His phone was tucked between his ear and his shoulder as he was doing the dishes. His neck started to ache from being in that awkward position for a long time.  
  
”He doesn't know, probably just needs a little stronger lenses. I believe he said he's going to get it checked before Christmas. Oh, that brings me to the topic of Christmas! Your dad and I were thinking of going to the cottage this year and-” She went on about the Christmas plans which Vegard had heard at least thrice already that week. He really couldn't bother to listen right now. He knew it was inevitable that they all would have to gather up to celebrate the holidays together, but he really wasn't certain about his relationship with Bård right now, even though things had seemed normal after Bård moved to the hotel. He didn't want to think about Bård at all actually, but still found himself ensnared in thoughts about his brother more often than he would've liked to admit.  
  
Eventually Christmas came, slowly and remorsefully for Vegard. He didn't want to go, but there was no way out. It was a tradition, and even Bjarte came home to spend a few weeks with family. Their mother had called Vegard, and probably Bård too, a couple days ago and warned him with a stern voice. She'd said he'd better bring a good mood and a happy smile with him, because if he didn't, she would force Vegard and Bård into a small storage room and lock the door until they made up with each other. Vegard cringed at the mere thought. His mother had tried to make him promise, but he had only answered it depended a lot on his brother. She had told him to mind his own business and let his brother take care of his.  
  
Vegard looked himself in the mirror. He was ready to go. It was two in the afternoon, the day before Christmas. Now there would be a five hour car trip, which he wasn't too eager on, and he lingered a couple more minutes to avoid driving for as long as possible. But he knew time, and it wouldn't let things slip like that. Ten minutes past the time he had been supposed to leave, he decided it would be time to go. One last time he ruffled the dark locks and struck a dull smile to his reflection in the mirror. _Good thing I have five hours time to practice that._  
  
He put on his shoes and grabbed the bag stuffed with clothes and a couple of books. He pulled on his thick jacket and completed his looks with a scarf. It had never stopped snowing after the night Bård had left. Driving would be hell.  
  
He turned to open the door, when suddenly the phone in his pocked went off. Annoyed, he fumbled around for it, cursing at the thousand keys and papers and trash that always seemed to want to nest in his pockets. They probably bred too.  
  
”Ylvisåker.” He answered without looking at the screen.  
  
”Hi.” A hesitant voice answered. Vegard drew in a sharp breath and closed his eyes. It was long since he'd heard that voice, but he could never in a million years have mistaken it.  
  
”What is it?” He asked more sharply than he'd meant to. He could hear Bård shift uncomfortably on the other side of the line. His voice sounded very muffled.  
  
”I was just thinking,” he swallowed. ”if you could give me a lift to the cottage? I can't really get there on my own...” Vegard wanted to sight deeply, overly aggressively to convey his mood to the other, but instead he controlled his emotions and cleared his throat. Of course the little brat hadn't been able to get himself a fucking car! He hadn't even gotten up to buying an apartment yet. Sometimes Vegard would've bet his head that there was a little kid still controlling Bård. He seemed so helpless on his own.  
  
”Sure.” He said coldly at last. ”I'll pick you up in fifteen minutes.”  
  
”Okay. Thanks.” Vegard said a quick bye and ended the call. He didn't know how to feel about this. Five hours in a car with his brother could mean a whole new level of disastrous commotion between them. With a huff he decided it was time to go, and the door slammed shut behind him, leaving a faint ringing in his head.  
  
He pulled up at the side of the road, beside the hotel. Of course Bård wasn't outside yet. When was he ever on time anyway? Vegard's thumbs drummed nervously at the steering wheel as he looked at the entrance of the hotel from beneath his dark curls. When the big doors finally opened, ten minutes too late, Vegard sighed with exasperation. Finally the brat had the decency to show up!  
  
”What in the shit...?” He breathed and his face was swiftly cast into a strong current of different emotions, featuring confusion and shock as the primary parts. What he saw was not what he had expected.  
  
Bård tagged along, shoulders hunched and generally looking a bit miserable. His left hand carried a bag and his guitar hung over his left shoulder in its bag. What caught Vegard's attention was his right arm, which was hung across his chest in a cast, and his face had a white bandage taped across his nose.  
  
”What the hell has happened?” Vegard shouted as he came half running to his brother and grabbed the heavy bag that half hung, half dragged along the ground. Bård looked at him, mouth open as he breathed through it rather than his trashed nose, and Vegard could see blue and yellow bruises spreading out underneath his blue eyes like odd misshapen wings. He looked outright awful.  
  
”Mom didn't tell you?” Bård asked sheepishly and tried to speed away to the car, all the while hiding his face as best he could under his hair. Vegard noticed he'd cut his light locks, they only reached down behind his ears now.  
  
”No she didn't. Hey, slow down.” A hand was placed on Bård's shoulder and suddenly Vegard blocked his way. Bård stopped and sighed tiredly as Vegard cupped his cheeks with his warm hands to look him over closely. He shook his head slowly as if unable to process what he saw. ”God, you look awful.”  
  
”Yeah? Right back at you.” Bård laughed tiredly and the smallest tug of amusement pulled on Vegard's lips before he went serious again.  
  
”What happened, Bård?” Bård sighed and broke contact with his brother's concerned eyes.  
  
”I ran into a tree with my new car.” He managed to stutter. Vegard wasn't sure he'd heard right at first, but when Bård wouldn't say anything more, and Vegard played the words over in his head, the meaning of it hit him with a vast force. His brother had indeed been able to get himself a new car, and was thus not as helpless as he had judged him to be. But more than that, he understood that there must be something truly bothering on Bård's mind if he just went running into trees like that.  
  
”How?” He asked at last, unable to keep back. To his disappointment Bård only shrugged while mumbling something about his sight before he broke free from his brother's gentle hands to walk over to the car. Vegard noticed a slight limp on his brother's right leg, and he only shook his head with pity and confusion as he jogged after the other, bag in hand, and got into the car. ”You know, you have a lot to explain.” He said as he started the engine. Bård huffed and looked out the window.  
  
Eventually Vegard got some information coaxed out of Bård's swollen face. The blonde talked as if he was suffering a flu and his nose was really stuffy, and he breathed loudly through his mouth.  
  
The accident had happened three days ago, one day after Vegard had last spoken to his mother. He'd been to the opitician to check his sight two days prior, but they had only recommended him some eye drops and stronger lenses. Bård never told any other reason to the crash, but apparently it had been at reasonably low speed. He had hit the tree so that it had trashed the passenger seat side, luckily, and only his right hand and leg had been stuck between metal and whatever else. The hand had been twisted awkwardly and one of the bones in the forearm had snapped. It wasn't very bad and he would only have to wear the cast for four weeks if everything went well. As for his nose, the airbag hadn't worked. His car hadn't been the newest, so to say, and he hadn't had the time to check the functionality of everything. So the impact had launched him forward and he'd hit his nose violently into the steering wheel, and the bone part of it had cut out through his skin. Vegard made a grimace at that.  
  
Bård might have looked beaten and miserable, but his ego, if anything, was deflated. He seemed emotionally drained and colourless, as if something clouded his mind, and not a single sassy remark or self-centered comment was uttered. His words were as dull and lifeless as his eyes, and Vegard felt all the anger and whatever stuck up feelings he'd harboured run away like a silent stream. He felt guilty for not having been with Bård when it happened.  
  
Two and a half hours had gone of the journey, and the two had stopped to get Bård a cup of coffee and Vegard a sandwich and a small bottle of ice-tea. Bård's condition had earned quite a few glances, subtle from most of the adults, and not so subtle from the kids and the few nosier ones. Bård hadn't cared, and Vegard had done his best not to either.  
  
The road ahead of them was getting dark again as the last evidence of a finishing day was slipping away. They rolled ahead in silence, only listening to the humming of the tires against the worn road and their own breaths. A thousand thoughts circled their heads like eagles spying on their prey.  
  
Bård thought of what his brother might think of him. He should probably try to apologize, to make him understand that Bård held no power, and what had happened hadn't been in Bård's hands. That the kiss hadn't been his fault. But he couldn't say that, could he? Because if he did, he would be the child again. He would be the irresponsible one, the one who acted before thinking. Bård wasn't a child. Frankly speaking, he was so tired of the jokes always pulled on him about being the immature and young one in the group. As if Vegard or Calle or even Magnus were any better or more grown-up than him. Maybe he was the child because he'd never been given the _opportunity_ to be a grown-up among them. It was probably all coming from Vegard, some hidden instinct in him that wouldn't let go of their childhood. Bård had been expected to understand and be able to react as an adult back when they were in Africa, and he had never really been able to be the child he was, except when with Vegard. And now he seemed to be unable to let go of the caring older brother-role. Bård could take care of himself, and he knew damn well what he did with life. He didn't need someone to tell him to regret his own actions.  
  
Vegard's head was spinning with different scenarios of what had happened when Bård had run into the tree. He couldn't let go of the thought of Bård screaming as the impact emptied his lungs and trapped the right half of his body into a claustrophobic hell. He imagined the blood gushing out of the crushed nose and onto his chest to drench his shirt in warm life running to waste. Weak and confused pleas and calls, dizzied by horror and pain, haunted Vegard's head, and he saw in front of himself how foreign faces, panicking and scared, came rushing to the car in which Bård sat whimpering helplessly. He tried to insert himself into that situation, all these strange people coming to you, asking you questions and pulling at you, while you are unable to process anything but immense agony threatening to drag you under the dark surface. But you fought and fought with all your might and clutched onto the slippery consciousness, and tried feverishly to find that one face that wasn't there. _That one face that should've been there._ Vegard's head snapped to Bård fast as a lightning before returning back to the road. He released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding back, and with it a pressure in his chest was released. Bård was still there, and he was okay now. He had to be. Without him Vegard wouldn't be either. The mere thought of it frightened him and he clutched the steering wheel with a bit too extensive force.

”Bård...” Vegard broke the dense silence at last without really knowing what to say. He needed desperately to hear his brother's voice, needed affirmation to the other one's presence. He didn't have the time to continue the uncertain sentence before Bård let his breath out along with a couple of words that had built up inside him like a dam. They all flowed into Vegard's ears smoothly like a train on new rails. Regardless of their content, Vegard felt so happy to hear his little brother's voice.

”Before you murder me, I just want to tell you I don't regret a thing.” Bård's voice cut the air abruptly, and it was flat and powerless and a bit incoherent, but it was still Bård, and that was more than enough for Vegard. He closed his eyes briefly and took in every breath and sound his brother made, so glad he was safe and getting better now. When he finally woke up from the momentary daze Bård's voice had caused him, he wrinkled his forehead in confusion.

”That is one utterly bullshit statement, Bård.” He said gravely. He could see Bård shifting from the corner of his eye. ”I know you regret a lot of things. And when you get better and I get my hands on you, you will regret a whole new dimension of things.”

”Well... shit.” Bård said at last, and they both broke into laughter, though Bård's sounded painful.

”Look,” Vegard continued then. ”we both know you're an idiot and a bad driver - now we finally have proof of that too - but I don't want to argue now. I just want to make sure you're safe and not in too much pain.” Bård broke Vegard off with a loud groan.

”Don't even begin discussing pain with me, honestly... Dear god.” Vegard felt a pang in his chest, as if someone had hit him. Bård sounded like he truly suffered, and Vegard only wished he could've eased the pain, or even shared it. ”Let's just talk about something else.”

”Yes, yes of course. Whatever you want, Bård.” He glanced at Bård to make sure he was okay. The blonde head was resting against the cold window, leaving a few greasy marks.

”Stop sounding that pitying. I know you're not.” Bård said half jokingly. Vegard was dead serious.

”Yes I am, Bård. I don't want you to be hurt.”

”Well, I am.”

”I know.” Vegard was rather out of words. He felt bad and guilty. ”That's why I sound pitying.”  
  
Bård didn't say anything more, and Vegard almost thought he'd fallen asleep until his head jerked and his haunting blue eyes traveled to look at Vegard. The gaze lingered, Vegard felt it shoot into his flesh, but he dared not return it. Bård turned to face the road again.  
  
Vegard thought the words over. _I don't regret a thing._ Maybe there was something to it. Bård had never been a sucker for regret or apologies or even reasonable thinking in the first place. Vegard almost chuckled. God, what an odd day it had been. He went through everything once more, and suddenly the small content smile on his face turned into a light frown, and lastly to a mask of dread. The pieces of the puzzle fell together like the soft snowflakes outside.  
  
 _I ran into a tree with my new car._  
  
 _I don't regret a thing._  
  
Panic gripped him as tight as he gripped the steering wheel. His breathing got faster and he tried to hold his eyes steadily on the road, but his head was screaming for air. An invisible hand gripped his lungs and squeezed, long black nails punctured him like a brittle balloon. His mind was failing him.  
  
”Hey...” Bård said a bit taken aback by his brother's sudden change. When Vegard wouldn't react to his words, he grabbed his big brother's arm with his good hand to try to calm him down. Vegard's knuckles had gone white with effort. ”Hey, Vegard! Calm down!” He called but Vegard was far away. ”Look at me! Vegard, look at me!” Vegard's foot was pressing harder at the gas and their speed increased dangerously. Bård didn't know what to do and was starting to panic too. The memories from the crash still lived vividly in his mind. ”Vegard! You're going to be okay! We're going to be okay! Just fucking look at me!”  
  
Finally Bård got contact with his brother, and Vegard breathed out suddenly and eased the foot off the gas almost wholly to decrease the swindling speed. He regained control of both the car and himself, and then his face was directed to Bård.  
  
”You didn't... You...” He stammered, voice shaky and raw. Bård didn't know what to do. ”The car... You didn't do it-” Vegard swallowed and his eyes were clear with tears. ”-on purpose... Did you?”  
  
”What?” Bård breathed in disbelief. Then he understood. ”What? No! No, Vegard, no! I would never..!” Bård had never seen Vegard so relieved. Shaky breaths were leaving his dried lips, and Bård could swear he could hear his frantic heartbeats. Or maybe they were his own. Or maybe both their hearts were beating in unison, a fast drumming to prove they were still alive.  
  
They fell in silence again, and it filled the small car. They knew there were no more words needed. They were both safe, both okay, and only that mattered.  
  
They drove for an hour, both deep in their own thoughts. It was pitch dark outside, except for the scarcely placed streetlights at the sides of the road. They hadn't seen other cars for a good twenty minutes. Bård cleared his throat.  
  
”Stop the car.” He said calmly, almost whispering. Vegard glanced over at him and slowed the speed just a bit.  
  
”What?” He asked with concern playing strongly in his voice, worried something was wrong with his brother.  
  
”Stop the car.” He was still calm as a cliff, eyes fixed on the road.  
  
”Are you okay? Are you feeling ill? Bård?”  
  
”I said stop the car!” He shouted and Vegard flinched, abruptly pressing the bake, sending them both flying forward a bit. The car stopped at the side of the road and the motor of the car hummed around them, only to be overpowered by the sound of the rushing blood in their veins. Bård turned his body to face Vegard, who stared back with confusion and worry in his features.  
  
When Bård's hand reached Vegard's cheek and the blonde leaned in, Vegard knew exactly what was going to happen. He had been there before, but still it felt so new and exciting. Bård tilted his head just a bit, and a faint breath came washing over Vegard's face. Their lips touched in a gentle fashion, before Bård pushed on eagerly. Vegard's hands traveled up to his hair to wind in it and hold the brother in place so he could properly taste his dry beautiful lips. It hurt Bård's entire face, but honestly, what in this world wouldn't hurt? He bit his brother's lip and shivered at the puff of breath that was pulled from the warm mouth.  
  
In the darkness they could confide in each other, unafraid of what the surrounding world was thinking. They were locked inside the car, shielded by the metal, and it mirrored their lives perfectly. It was them against the world, them against the odds, and it would always be that way. It was as if a burning vow was uttered, silent and binding, and their beings sang in unison as the minutes passed. It was a vow that would tie them for the rest of their lives, whether right or wrong, whether good or bad. They knew it, and they accepted it. It was inevitable. As were they.  
  
As they parted, Vegard's hands still lay intertwined with Bård's messy hair. Their breaths met between them and mixed up in the cooling air inside the car. Bård smiled and Vegard mirrored him only seconds after.  
  
”I don't regret a thing, Ylvisåker.” Bård whispered. Then he drew away, smooth ringlets slipped between Vegard's fingers like strands of silk. The car was set in motion once again.

Vegard knew he shouldn't blame himself for not having been with Bård when he crashed the car. It didn't matter anymore, because now they were together, and Vegard would never leave him again. Not as long as their hearts beat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your nice comments, I really appreciate it :) Also, next chapter WILL have stuff in it ;)


	9. You can't win my game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actually felt a bit down after what went down on tumblr some time ago, the stuff about ylviscest. But I figured I can't stop now, can I?  
> Anyways I'm just gonna say what I probably should've said a long time ago already:  
> The Bård and Vegard I'm writing about are not the real people, these are characters. What happens in this fic is pure fiction. What the boys do on their own time is their business, not mine.
> 
> Also this chapter contains some sexual action, so beware! And enjoy!

The car rolled on along the slippery dark road, but inside the car the mood was light, almost ecstatic. Dizziness grazed their minds as their thoughts raced with unlimited speed, and neither really knew what to do with themselves. The painful awareness of how wrong their feelings were was still haunting them, but somehow it felt less significant now. It had lost value as fast as they lost their interest in it.  
  
Another half an hour flew past before the familiar road sign pointing to the left came into their view. Bård smiled at it, foggy memories started playing in his head. They had often played brigands in the woods surrounding their family cottage, especially in the summers when running around was easier without a ton of clothes on, and Vegard and Bjarte had once tied Bård to the sign to await his execution (because he had been a rebel and tried to take Vegard's place as the ”chief-thief”) and the two had forgotten about him (or Vegard had probably intentionally engaged Bjarte's sensitive interest in something else) for hours. He'd stood there for quite a long time in pouring rain, head sulking and hands painfully tied behind him to the metal pole, until the woman who had her cottage a couple hundred meters further along the road, had rode by on her bike. She had been confused and a bit horrified too, to find the soaked and cold boy standing tied to the sign at the side of the road. Bård had tried to explain to her that it was only a game, but she had been too upset to listen to him, and she had called his mother instead to loudly fret about their parenting skills. Because the poor boy was freeeeezing! His teeth were clatttttering and his lips were bluuuue! In reality Bård had been entirely fine, it hadn't been the first time something like that had happened, and he had rolled his eyes at the woman who flailed wildly with her hands as she explained the situation to the mother on the phone. He could hear his mother's voice through the phone, and he knew the tone she used very well. She knew Bård was fine, but she put on a show to show how mortified she was to the neighbour. When she had asked to talk to her ”poor baby boy” she had - instead of cooing and pitying – hissed lowly in Bård's ear to get home quicker than fast, or there would be bodies. Needless to say, both Vegard and Bård had gotten quite a lecture (Bjarte had made it relatively unharmed, that little shit), not so much for leaving Bård alone outside in the rain, but for scaring the neighbours and giving their mom and dad a reckless reputation. If they had to do something stupid like that, they could at least do it somewhere where no civilization would reach them.  
  
Bård chuckled at the memories, which earned a glance from Vegard. He had just as big a grin on his face, and Bård knew they had thought of the same thing.  
  
They turned to drive on the small uneven road that led to their cabin. The car swayed from side to side, tires slightly whining at the holes in the ground. Both Vegard and Bård knew every bump and every root in that road. Their countless adventures as young kids with scratched knees had more than often led through there.  
  
At last it stood there before them, as red and steady as ever, a warm welcoming light shining out through the window. It was an old building, small but sufficient, built by their grandfather and grandmother back in their days. It had got electricity only a couple years ago, and still had no running water. It had a kitchen and a living room and a bedroom downstairs, and another very small bedroom upstairs, barely enough for two narrow beds to fit into it. It also had a cellar for keeping food cool in the summer. There was a separate outhouse for personal needs, and both Bård and Bjarte liked to joke about having to be afraid not to freeze one's willy off during the winter. The cottage was located at the shore of the sea, and there was a separate building for the sauna, which had recently been expanded into a guest house of sorts. You could in theory cram up to eight people into the main building, but that required four to sleep on the floor, which required extra mattresses, which there weren't. There was, however, a bed for one and a large sofa which could be turned into a bed for two, in the guest house. The sauna-guest house-building had also been the headquarters of their brigand band when the boys had been small, and the trio had been allowed to sleep there alone without their parents in the summers when it didn't require heating.  
  
Now the colour schemes of the surroundings had changed since Vegard and Bård had been there in the summer. The trees stood silently watching them, their naked branches shielding the house from the gray sky. A thick layer of snow covered the ground. Vegard parked his car beside his parents silvery gray Citroën. The two looked at each other with encouraging smiles. They hadn't seen their parents since last summer, and they knew there would be a lot of discussion and questions. Normally it would drain them both, but maybe they could tackle the issues together today.  
  
They stepped out of the car and started getting out their baggage. They hadn't much with them, one bag each and Bård's guitar. Face's still buried in the trunk of the car, Bård muttered:  
  
”Three, two, one...” Vegard grinned, he knew exactly what the countdown was about.  
  
”My boys!” Their mother's cheery tone rang from the top of the few stairs of the house at the same time as Bård came to zero and the two spun around with big grins on their faces. Her face shone with light and love as she climbed down the stairs, all the while drying her hands on her apron. Vegard had made it when he'd been in school, it was white and had small green and badly made airplanes sewed onto it. He hated it now, and Bård liked to pick on him for it, but their mom was more than fond of it.  
  
”Mom!” Vegard exclaimed and Bård walked toward the house with his bag in his hand. Vegard took care of his own bag and Bård's guitar. Bård hugged his mom, trying to tell her his arm was hurting while she crushed him against her soft chest. She mumbled a lot about her ”poor baby” and ”stupid little thing”. Behind her their dad was coming, carrying a jacket for her wife to put on as she had hasted out when she saw the car arriving.  
  
They welcomed each other, hugging numerous times, changing new and old information. Even Bjarte joined in when he got his lazy ass up and out the door. They were naturally all over Bård, but that they always were anyway. Vegard had never been as much of an attention seeker as Bård, and he was okay with it.  
  
”Well then, boys!” Their mother exclaimed happily while her hands rested on her hips. ”Why don't we go in and eat now. You are almost half an hour late! Dinner's stood on the table for a quarter of an hour already!”  
  
The company went inside and were met by the warm smell of food. No matter how good cooks Vegard and Bård could be if they really tried, their mother would always top them.  
  
They made their way to the table, and ended up sitting opposite of each other. The food was plentiful and felt like heaven in their starving senses. Wine was offered too, and especially Bård seemed to enjoy it thoroughly, probably because of the pain that constantly lingered in his arm and especially his face when he laughed with the rest of the family. Bjarte tried repeatedly to make him take off the bandage and show his face, but their mother kept telling him off. She didn't want any of that while they were eating.  
  
”Imagine the shock when I saw him. It was quite a vision.” Vegard managed to get a half-laughing word into the lively discussion while he was chewing on a piece of lamb. Everyone's eyes turned to him, except Bård who giggled quietly by himself. Vegard was serious now. ”You didn't tell me about him, though.”  
  
”I didn't?” Their mother answered, truly confused. ”Oh, darling. I didn't mean not to, I thought I had, really, but I guess I talked to so many during those days and just forgot to mention it to you.” She paused to hand over a plate of stewed vegetables to Bjarte. ”Besides, you two could actually talk to each other, you know. I don't need to act as a messenger between you two. You're grown men, Vegard.” She had that tone that Vegard hated. The one that told him he'd acted stupidly, like a kid, without actually saying it. She never used it on Bård or Bjarte. It was the silent way of judging the oldest brother, to tell him that he has the biggest responsibility and the biggest possibility to fuck things up. And in that case, he would be the first one to be blamed.  
  
Something nudged Vegard's foot under the table, and he shifted slightly, thinking it was someone else's foot which had accidentally brushed against his. But the other one was determined and poked him again, this time lingering slightly. Vegard turned his head to look at Bård who sat directly in front of him. The older one tried to keep his face neutral, but the expression on the younger one's face made his brows lift just a bit. Bård had a defiant spark in his eyes, and that half-smirk of someone who's just challenged someone else.  
  
”You two seem to have made up though?” Their father asked before stuffing a huge fork of mashed potatoes into his mouth. Vegard's eyes snapped to his father and then to the table, and he could feel a blush creeping up his neck and spreading on his face. Bård's foot kept rubbing his shin gently while the blue eyes were steadily on Vegard's downturned face.  
  
”I... guess you could say that.” Vegard mumbled. He tried to move his feet out of reach from his brother, but the space under the table was very limited. He couldn't get up and walk out either, or call out on Bård for doing that. Only God knew what the rest of the family would think of them...  
  
What the hell was the little shit doing now? Playing some sort of stupid game? He felt slightly panicked, they sat at a table with their family, and Bård tried some stupid trick on him! It felt really frightening, what if they were caught? At the same time there was something small in him, some tiny perversion in the very bottom of his stomach, which was stirring more and more with every spark Bård's touch caused against his clothed skin. He felt the hairs on his arms rising, and the blush reached down to his chest now, as if it was a liquid slowly running down and under his clothes. He dared a swift glance at his brother, and had to swallow hard not to do anything – he wasn't entirely sure what exactly. Bård's eyelids had lowered just a bit, and he was eyeing him with those lazy, seducing pits of ice. Bård's foot slid up his shin again. Afraid he'd cause too much commotion if he started moving around the chair, Vegard only grabbed his glass of wine and downed everything there was in one go. _Fuck if I'm going to be sober and take this from him.  
  
_ ”Well boys!” His mother exclaimed cheerily, if just a bit drunkedly, as the conversation didn't seem to spark. She looked over at Bård and reached over to touch his hand, and – to Vegard's relief – caught his attention. He smiled at her and his blue eyes were clear. ”I'm sorry it didn't work out with you and Lisa, darling. She was such a lovely girl.” Suddenly an odd chuckle rang in the room, and for some reason everyone's heads turned to Vegard. It was only seconds later he realized the noise had actually been made by him. He folded his arms quickly and hid his face under his curls to prevent them from finding his blush. _Shit, how drunk am I?_  
  
”It's okay.” Bård slurred, ignoring his brother, as he picked up his fork with his left hand again and tried to pierce a slippery bean on his plate. It seemed like a difficult task, and he chased it across the white porcelain. ”She wasn't really ever my type... really... you know?” He talked slowly as if putting a lot of thought into every word. Their parents smiled understandingly at him.  
  
”Player...” Bjarte coughed incoherently at the end of the table.  
  
”I'm sure you'll find someone nice, Bård.” Their mom said after glancing angrily at the youngest brother, and patted Bård's arm lightly. Then she looked over at Bjarte and Vegard. ”How about you boys? Any luck in the love-life for you two?” Vegard sat silent, his eyes had met with Bård's again, the blueness stood out clearly against his wrapped-up face. The foot was still sliding up and down his leg under the table again, and there was a small war in the air between them now. Invisible thunder and lightning reigned where their eyes met. Vegard heard the ghastly sound of gunfire somewhere nearby. Bjarte snapped his mouth open to say something, but Bård was quicker.  
  
”Actually, Vegard has someone...” He said and eyed his brother with a cocky smile. Vegard froze. The foot had traveled up to his knee now, and if Vegard measured right in his cloudy brain, Bård's long leg would in fact, if he straightened it, reach his - _Oh shit._  
  
”No, I don't.” He rasped and tried to shift away from his brother, only ending up with his legs more spread to grant Bård better access to caress his inner lower thighs clumsily. An even deeper blush spread on his cheeks and nose and he tried to hide under his dark curls again.  
  
”Yes, you do.” Bård hiccuped and flashed a cheeky smile.  
  
”Oh, Vegard! That's wonderful!” Their mom exclaimed and clapped her hands together excitedly. ”That's my boy! Tell us about her, what does she look like?” But Vegard was entirely quiet. He was feeling a rapid nausea build up inside, and the world rocked as if he was on a boat. His eyes were fastened on Bård, who answered with a defiant blue fire. _What's the matter, Vegard? Can't take a little gambling?_  
  
”She's tall...” Bård said, slowly, tasting the words carefully on his tongue. ”Slender, dark blonde...” He licked his lips swiftly, never looking away from his brother. Vegard was amazed that the rest of the family hadn't noticed what was going on. It was like some wall between them, like they were in two completely different dimensions. ”Actually, just think me,” The others broke out in laughter, thought this was another joke of their's. Vegard knew exactly what was going on. He wanted to get away. ”in a long silky dress, with high-heels...” The foot traveled further along Vegard's thigh, and stopped to massage him only inches from his half-mast member. Bård's actions and words had had a clear impact on him. ”earrings, necklaces, luscious lashes...” The shots crackled like a bonfire just outside the window, Vegard was entirely sure of it now. The family laughed more. Why did they laugh? Vegard needed to get away. He could smell the gunpowder. ”And red wet lips against your neck...”  
  
The second the foot touched Vegard's pulsating cock, he shot up and hit his thighs into the edge of the table violently, sending a few small plates clattering across the white table sheet. His face was red like fire - the family thought with fury, Vegard and Bård knew with something else – and he stormed clumsily away from the table and into the hallway, grabbed his bag and headed for the door. The family was laughing, Vegard heard Bjarte's voice. He managed to breathe highly incoherent words through his wheezing laughter.  
  
”I-I think you upset him big time!”  
  
Vegard slammed the door shut behind himself. He walked as fast as possible over to the guest house-building, ignoring the sparking war around himself. He tried to drown out the shouts of dying men, which were slowly transforming into moans. Bård's moans.  
  
Well inside the building, he tossed the bag on the floor, and it spiraled over to settle in a dusty corner. Then he threw himself on the sofa, quickly undoing the buttons and the zipper of his pants, and slid in his right hand. It fumbled around, trying to get under the edge of the boxer briefs. He groaned in frustration, feeling so aroused and angry and humiliated at the same time. God, how he hated Bård for this! But the arousal was mixing with his hot anger, almost empowering it.  
  
The worst thing wasn't that Bård had successfully forced him into this state by touches and disguised words. No, the worst thing was that Vegard had been too much of a wuss to tell him off, and had instead escaped, like a coward, and now _continued_ where Bård had left off.  
  
”Fuck...” he hissed as his fingers finally found his shaft and wrapped around it in a familiar manner, forcing his hips to thrust involuntarily. He dropped his head back, closed his dark eyes and let out the uneven breaths in pants and huffs. Instead of going slow and good, he took up an erratic pace, stroking hard and fast, hips buckling in rhythm. Ever so often he did the particularly good thing, where he flattened his palm and rubbed it over the top slowly. Then he continued pulling and jerking, twisting slightly at the base. He needed quick release.  
  
However, he was quick to notice it wasn't enough. Every time he came close to orgasm, his mind went blank like usual, his jaw dropped and the brown eyes closed with a slight frown between the brows. He jerked a couple of times more, a bit slower with a squeeze and a twist, but it wouldn't come. He was back to square one, the good-yet-not-good-enough-feeling nesting gingerly in his loins. Three times it happened before he let go of his cock with a frustrated groan. The bright top of it peeked out from underneath his briefs, leaking with pre-cum. Angrily he pulled down his pants to his knees and tried again, without success. He wondered what was wrong with him.  
  
The answer was easy. _A lot_ was wrong with him. He was a mental case, a totally sick person, rotten to the core. And what made it even worse was that he didn't even care – that much – anymore. How could he? He had seen Bård's actions, for God's sake! He probably wanted these unspeakable things just as much as Vegard, if not more!  
  
So as he slowly brought up his hand to his mouth and licked it shamelessly for more lubrication, he tried to tell himself it was at least remotely okay. _This is all there is. Nothing else will ever happen. It is okay to fantasize._ The hand flew down to his shaft and started rubbing, slowly now. His eyes closed again, and the curly head rested against the sofa once again as a small whimper was elicited from his parted lips.  
  
This time he didn't go for it blankly. He imagined a small picture in his head, and blushed violently as he did so. The excitement of it made him moan. The picture was of Bård. Vegard jerked visibly, his breath hitched as he examined the image closely. It was what Bård had described earlier, him in a beautiful dress, bringing out the contours of his slender body. He had stilettos on, high as ever, and they made the muscles of his legs stand out beautifully. All the marks of injury on his face were gone. Vegard swirled his palm around the top of his arousal and bit his lip, back arching at the too-good feeling.  
  
Suddenly the picture started moving, Bård looked straight at him, his brows lifted knowingly and he flashed that same smile he had at the table only minutes ago. Vegard moaned loudly. Bård moved toward him, came so close Vegard could feel the smell of his little brother. It was a good smell, had always been, but only now Vegard noticed how much it actually turned him on. He picked up the speed of his jerks and thrusts. Bård grabbed the smooth fabric that covered his thighs, and slowly he pulled it upwards, creating smooth folds just low enough to cover his junk.  
  
”Oh, please, please...” Vegard whimpered, unknowing of what he was pleading for. Bård smirked at him and – Vegard exhaled all the air there was in his lungs – straddled him. There was no weight, Bård was light as air, and Vegard's hands settled involuntarily at the younger one's hips. He thrust upwards, his shaft collided with the underside of Bård's, but no friction was created. The younger brother didn't have underwear on and was just as hard as Vegard. He thrust harder and harder, trying to create at least some contact, and Bård bent down to whisper and moan in his ear. Vegard was so near, his mind went blank again, blank except for the illusion of his brother on his lap. The rest of the world could wait.  
  
”You can't win my game, big brother.” Bård whispered in his ear and he groaned, the sound catching in his dry throat. ”I want you to come for me. I want you to show me -” Bård rolled his hips. ”- how good I feel.”  
  
”Bård!” Vegard moaned weakly as he came, hot spurts landing on his hand and shirt. He panted heavily, pumping out the rest of himself as he tried to recall the image. But the bubble had popped, just like him, and the imaginative Bård was gone. It was replaced by a heavy guilt, once again.  
  
He lay panting, feverishly trying to process what had happened. When had his life become this? How had it all crashed now, thrown him out in the cold and wrong without a chance to defend himself? It had seemed to go so well until today, like all that happened those months ago was only a faint and dizzy thought ghosting his mind now and then. But now, now it all had reached his full awareness again, and much stronger this time. He had jerked off to the thought of his brother, and for a moment he had been _okay with it._  
  
He shrugged as an overpowering nausea washed over him and he swallowed back bitter liquid. It burned as it traveled through his throat a second time, and the feeling was almost as horrible as the mental chaos he was slung into. The cum-covered hand started shaking and his frantic breathing made his whole body heave. He needed air and something to wipe away the evidence of his sins with, and he needed something to wash away the horrible taste from his mouth with. And something to annihilate the abominable thoughts in his head with.  
  
To his shock and utter horror, he didn't have time to do any of that. A soft click sounded from the door, and a cold breeze hit his slightly bared lower abdomen and his thighs, and made the patches on his shirt which were stained with come feel cold against skin. He froze, as if affected by the cool wind, and his eyes nailed onto the figure standing in the open doorway. A thousand inexplicable emotions thundered in the blue fire of Bård's eyes.


	10. In the Nook of the Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The words about incest in this chapters are not my opinions!  
> Enjoy!

So there they were then, eye to eye, and it had to be the strangest moment they'd ever found themselves witnesses to. Worst case scenario.  
  
Vegard's pants were down to his knees, his hand wrapped around his limp member and stomach coated with his cooling come. A mighty blush started spreading, covering up the sheet-white nausea on his face. He felt it burning the layers of his skin. His ears rang, blood rushed and roared like a strong river.  
  
Bård eyed him over, a blush almost equal to Vegard's would've washed over him, hadn't it been for his already covered-up colourful face. Then the younger man acted, his motions were fast if a bit clumsy from his drunken state. He limped over to the sofa and threw down his bag from his shoulder, it landed beside Vegard who flinched and finally seemed to understand the situation. He started covering himself up and wiped the cum on his hand onto the already ruined shirt. He was breathing heavily, almost panicking, and was about to get up when Bård threw a determined glance at him.  
  
”Don't move.” He rasped and he was so close Vegard could smell the alcohol in his breath. The older brother froze without knowing why, and his shocked eyes rested on Bård as the taller one started rummaging through his bag. The trembling hands finally happened on the object of Bård's desire, a small box of pills. Painkillers for his injuries. He fumbled with the lid for a moment, then propped two pills into his mouth, knowing it would cause him severe nausea in a couple of hours. The doctor had warned him not to consume alcohol with the pills.  
  
With another quick glance to his brother's newly paled face, Bård swallowed the pills dry. His Adam's apple bobbed as the foul-tasting pills moved down his throat, and Bård could swear he heard Vegard moan weakly. Bård shivered at it, and his cock twitched where it was trapped in his old sweat pants. He tried to think of the right way to approach the situation, but he found it very hard to think at all.  
  
Bård had pondered over their relationship and situation during the past lonely weeks. While he knew it was wrong, very wrong, he couldn't quite bring himself to understand how. They wouldn't hurt anyone, would they? Sure, some stuck-up fangirl imagining to have either of them just for herself, but that's about it. Truth was, the majority of those people would never meet either of them anyway, and if they did, they would just be another face in the crowd. It wasn't direct physical damage they'd inflict upon anyone by being a little closer to each other. They couldn't precisely produce offspring either, so there wasn't any danger of that sort. He really couldn't understand just why it would be so bad. Nobody had to know anyway, and he would personally burn the Norwegian law book and stomp on the ashes if it meant he could give his brother a kiss without breaking every 'rule' there was in the world.  
  
A nervous sigh and a surprised gasp later Bård found himself leaning down on his brother, his only free hand resting at the backrest of the sofa, keeping up his whole weight. The only parts of them that touched each other, their lips, were sparking and tingling. It was clumsy, more lazy rubbing than actual kissing, and it hurt Bård all over his face, but it was subsiding. The pills were kicking in quickly. He giggled into the other one's mouth as he felt a hand tug at his hair.  
  
”You want me even though I look like this?” He breathed as he broke the kiss. He was answered with a low growl. The panic had died and been replaced by a new kind of spark in Vegard's dark eyes. The grip in Bård's smooth hair tightened and he was pulled into another kiss, a more violent one. It was as if Vegard wanted to demonstrate his strength, and for once Bård let him. He rather enjoyed it actually, when Vegard forcefully pried his lips apart with his tongue and entered, sliding over his own tongue with slick hotness. He was pulled slightly father down, the hand in his hair now gripped so hard it almost hurt. Bård whined involuntarily, God it turned him on to be bossed around like that. He'd never thought it would, he'd always been the one holding authority in these kind of situations. It was a slight surprise that Vegard was that confident too, he was usually the receding part in conversations and actions and over all. Maybe it was the alcohol, or pure lust. Bård enjoyed it however, and hoped Vegard wouldn't snap to his senses very soon.  
  
”You like that, huh?” Vegard hissed into Bård's face, his hot breath earning another whimper from the man who was bent over him. Vegard pulled Bård's head slightly to the side to bare his neck. There was a very audible gasp, drawn-out and delicate, when slick lips were placed on Bård's neck. The glorious sound made Vegard forget the last of his sanity, as his stomach fluttered and the feeling made his lips curl upward in a mischievous grin against his brother's smooth skin. He wasn't getting hard again just yet, he wasn't _that_ young anymore, but he knew it wasn't far away. His brother was a whole different case, however.  
  
Bård was panting loudly, his nose sounding a bit stuffy, and he swallowed repeatedly, Vegard could feel his Adam's apple move under his lips. A slight frown decorated the bruised face, probably because of the hard grip in his hair. God, Vegard enjoyed holding Bård's head like that, it sent a wave of pleasure through him to think he had full control. Bård's feet and hand had started trembling faintly from the effort of holding up his weight in that bent position for a longer period of time. But most prominent was the swelling bump in his pants.  
  
”Sit.” Vegard said hoarsely and pulled back, untangling his hands. Bård let out a shivering breath at the loss of touch, but his eyes widened when Vegard patted his own lap. The older brother hadn't had the time to fully pull on his pants earlier, and the peak of his cock lay visible against his lower stomach. Vegard reached out his hands and grabbed Bård by the hips, gently guiding him to straddle Vegard's lap, much like in the daydream – he blushed - he'd had earlier. Only now the presence of the other one burned him and made his skin ache for touch, and the weight of the other man on top of his thighs restricted his movements a bit. It was unbelievable to them both how they'd ended up like that, but more than that it was arousing.  
  
”This is what you want, huh?” Vegard breathed into his brother's face while a warm palm slid down Bård's side. _We should get rid of that shirt,_ he thought dizzily. ”You're a little attention seeking brat, you do know that?” Vegard's hands slipped underneath Bård's shirt, and traced lightly up and down his sides, leaving trails of goosebumps behind. ”You can't even control yourself around your family at the table, can you?” One hand traveled down to Bård's ass and he pulled slightly at the edge of his boxers and released them, and they sent a small whipping noise into the air where they hit Bård's flesh. The younger brother's breath caught slightly in his throat and his back arched just a bit, almost as if he was seeking further touch with his brother's body.  
  
”I think it's you who cou – ahh! – couldn't control yourself.” He choked as Vegard groped his ass, clawing at the worn sweat pants with his slender fingers. ”Considering how I found you.”  
  
”Shut up.” Vegard said and leaned in for a kiss. It was long and passionate, both were moaning into it slightly, Bård's voice more high-pitched than his brother's. Vegard's other hand was up in Bård's hair again, whenever pushing whenever pulling slightly, and the other one let out small whines at the moves. Bård's only free hand was thrown around Vegard's neck, drawing their bodies closer. Bård was moving his hips just slightly, trying to create some friction to ease his suffering, especially as Vegard's other hand occasionally ghosted his lower abdomen, but wouldn't go where he wanted it to. Vegard broke the kiss and bent his head to quickly but clumsily lick the slightly visible collarbone at Bård's neck opening. It earned such a loud moan from Bård's delicate lips, that Vegard had to swallow and roll his hips against his brother. He was very close to fully hard again.  
  
”You're a needy brat, aren't you.” He whispered into Bård's ear, and the other one shivered as his fingers clumsily reached down under the loose pants and brushed the edge of his boxers. ”Say it.”  
  
”I'm a needy – ah, Vegard!” The older brother had proceeded to suck hard at the sensitive skin of his neck. It was going to leave a mark, a visible mark, and Vegard knew it. Bård would probably have to wear a scarf for the rest of their stay. Vegard didn't care, he had to punish Bård for doing this to him. Maybe the little shit would learn to behave.  
  
”Go on.” He breathed and kissed the pulsating mark when he was done. Bård whined slightly and grinded his hips, created a light friction between them.  
  
”I'm a needy brat.” He moaned, tipping his head back slightly. Vegard pressed a light kiss to his Adam's apple.  
  
”Indeed.” Vegard mused against his neck, and his other hand slid in under the front of Bård's briefs and grazed his stiff cock. Bård let out a series of gasps and whines, trying to buckle into Vegard's hand, but the older brother wouldn't wrap around him properly.  
  
”Oh God, oh – Vegard...” Bård managed between moans. Vegard's other hand left Bård's hair and slid down along his shivering body to dive under his pants and cup his asscheek. He groaned as he felt the muscle clench under his palm when Bård thrust again, desperate for a more intense touch. ”Vegard, I need to-”  
  
”Shh, be quiet and still now, brother.” Vegard slurred with a smirk on his tingling lips. He felt light as all the clouds in the world, like nothing was bothering him. ”Be entirely still, and I'll see what I can do to help you. Not a single sound.” His fingers slid up along Bård's shaft once, and the younger brother squeezed his eyes tightly shut and bit his lips to keep back the whimpers threatening to escape. He forced his body to keep still, through extreme difficulty, and Vegard smirked at him. ”Good boy.” He whispered into his ear and wrapped long slender fingers around his brother's cock. Bård gasped and panted unevenly, his hand around Vegard's neck dug into the shoulder it clung onto. He couldn't keep from buckling into the touch, not at this stage of arousal, but each time he thrust, Vegard would pause the slow pumps. That led to him emitting small frustrated whines and whimpers, which Vegard also had forbidden. He couldn't win.  
  
”Vegard, please...” He complained and let his forehead fall against Vegard's chest with a bit too much force, there was a light 'oof' from the older brother.  
  
”You're such a whiny little bitch.” Vegard hissed into his hair. His hand came off Bård's dick, and the younger man sobbed at the loss of warmth. Vegard huffed, then smirked. ”Aren't you?”  
  
”Yes.” He answered weakly while clinging closer to his brother, crushing his hurt hand between them.  
  
”Yes what?”  
  
”I'm a whiny little bitch.” Bård swallowed. Vegard bent his head down to kiss Bård's neck, while simultaneously rolling his hips against the other one. He started to crave touch too. ”Please...”  
  
”What do you want?” Vegard murmured into the crook of his brother's neck, lightly tracing his tongue over a pulsating vein. ”Tell me what you need.”  
  
”I need you to touch me, Vegard.” Bård hiccuped and moaned as a finger brushed over the tip of his cock again. ”I need you so much.”  
  
Vegard figured he should give in, both for Bård's sake and his own. It was torture. Then again, he wasn't sure of how to proceed. For a moment he'd thought he'd sobered a bit, but he still recognized the thick fog in his head which clouded every thought. He wasn't sure if it was alcohol or lust though, probably both.  
  
Bård moved then, unable to hold back any longer. He wiggled a bit forward, until their chests touched and their bodies were pressed tight together. Bård leaned in to kiss his brother, wincing at the faint pain that shot through his face. Vegard grabbed Bård's hair again, with both hands now, and pulled his head back to kiss along his jaw. He thrust upwards, much like in his fantasy earlier, and this time his cock hit the underside of Bård's for real, and it created a real friction, enough to make them both gasp. Vegard had to drop his eyes to see it happen, and, oh God, was it turning him on. Bård's cock was red and swollen, a faint line of pre-come running down it and onto Vegard's dick. The older brother moaned audibly and Bård thrust involuntarily at the sound and the breath that hit his bared neck.  
  
They rocked like that for a minute, almost as if they were one. Their ragged breaths mixed between them, the air inside the building was getting cooler as it was hours since it had been heated. The weight of Bård upon his thighs was starting to wear Vegard out after the multiple thrusts and their increasing speed. The younger brother was gasping and clucking softly into his ear where he rocked, face red and eyes shut. Vegard felt the strongest urge he'd perhaps ever felt when with someone, to just pin his brother down with his own body, form a cage of himself and trap his beloved little brother, and just fuck him in the most raw sense there was while murmuring soothing words into his ear as he'd cry out underneath him. He blushed and swallowed, losing the focus of his eyes for the tiniest moment as pleasure rocketed through his entire body. He did have the decency to feel extremely wrong about those highly unholy thoughts, but the fact that he had a partner in crime evened it out. Bård's thoughts _couldn't possibly_ be that innocent either.  
  
”Get up.” Vegard said quietly, but Bård continued rutting against him, releasing delicate whimpers, clearly in an entirely other world. Vegard groaned and put a firm hand to his brother's shoulder and pushed him backwards slightly. His voice was more determined now. ”Get up, Bård.”  
  
”Wha- why?” Bård whined, mouth still open and eyes half-shut. Vegard only pushed him more, and lastly Bård had to stand up to avoid falling on his back onto the floor. The absence of the other one's body against their own made them both notice the newly set cold in the room, it was that kind which wanted to press up against them and rob them of their body heat. ”Vegard?”  
  
”Shut up.” Vegard murmured and got up too on wobbly legs. He blinked a couple of times to focus his eyes, then tried to take a step forward, only to almost fall over because of the pants halfway down his thighs. He growled in frustration and stripped them wholly off. Bård moaned, and his left hand had moved down to pull down his pants too and to grip his shaft, lazily stroking himself with everything but graceful moves, both his intoxicated state and the fact that he couldn't use his naturally active hand made it quite difficult to maneuver his movements.  
  
”Vegard, please, Vegard...” He wailed softly, biting his lip while eyeing his brother's half-bare body with unfocused eyes.  
  
”I said shut up.” Vegard slurred and took a determined step toward his brother. He slammed into him with such force it sent Bård taking unsteady steps backward, while Vegard assaulted his lips with his own like a storm. They crossed the room, and it was a miracle neither of them tripped over anything. Bård's back hit the cold wall and he hissed as the air went out of his lungs, but Vegard wouldn't give him a chance to catch his breath. His hand had moved down and pulled down Bård's pants slightly to wholly reveal the twitching cock of his brother, and was now pumping it, slightly twisting, and the only thing that sailed through Bård's brain was that this definitely had to be the best drunk hand job he'd ever received.  
  
After a while Vegard pulled away, panting and watching the sight before him. Bård's hair was messed up badly, strands tangled all over his face, even sticking to his eyelashes. His lips were a deep shade of pink and unnaturally swollen. A dark mark shone visibly at his neck. Vegard smirked contently and felt his shaft jump sightly. He grabbed his brother's left hand, caught it at its way down toward Bård's own cock, and pulled him with him.  
  
They entered the small bedroom, only big enough for a narrow bed and a nightstand. It had fresh sheets and was nicely made, their mother had made it ready earlier when she had been over to heat up the building. It was only meant for one of them to sleep in the guest house, but their father, who had been least wasted of them all at the dinner, had insisted Bård went after his brother and apologized, while their mother – after having wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes - had told her middle-child that she would keep her promise about shutting them into a room until they stopped fighting.  
  
Now they crashed down on that very bed, Bård first and Vegard on top, barely careful enough not to hurt his brother's hand further. They were cast into a wild tempest of kisses and thrusts, leading them on to forget about everything else. They both knew they couldn't last much longer, they had been going for a good while now and were both more aroused and tired than ever. Bård sobbed softly into the kiss as if wanting to say something, and Vegard pulled away to look down at his brother's bruised face.  
  
”Vegard, I need to come now.” He moaned weakly and thrust upward to seek touch from his brother's heated body. ”I need to – ah!”  
  
”Shh...” Vegard shushed his brother. He'd reached down his hand and wrapped it around his brother's hard length. Watching his brother's face all the while, he picked up the pace and listened to Bård's sounds. He wished he could have done the same to himself, but he had to use his other hand to hold himself up, so he settled for the next best option; thrusting against his brother's shivering body.  
  
It wasn't long before Bård's shallow sobs and whines turned into loud moans and high-pitched cries. Vegard panted heavily into his face, restraining himself and keeping his own sounds inside to fully enjoy the show his brother put on. He decided it was time, as a whiteness erased the world from his vision, and his face buried into Bård's neck. He swirled his palm over Bård's tip, somehow subconsciously knowing it would cause the same good feeling for his brother as it caused for himself.  
  
”Come then.” He choked into his brother's ear as he thrust one last time, spilling over his brother's hip and thigh. Bård couldn't hear him, for his frantic moaning had transformed into a blurred mumbling, it was as if he uttered some words over and over again, but Vegard was too drunk and too caught up in his own pleasure to make it out. Bård came into his hand hard and hot.  
  
Vegard collapsed onto his brother, who winced slightly at the pain shooting through his hand. The cum between them smeared onto their shirts and bare hips. Finally Bård fell silent after having chanted his slur through his orgasm. Vegard noted he was quite an audible guy.  
  
After a couple of minutes of silence and evening breaths, Vegard was about to suggest they get up and clean themselves off, but then he noticed his brother's breaths had evened out a tad more than what was meant. He lifted his head to look into Bård's face. Of course the brat had fallen asleep! He always did, stupid little brother!  
  
He sighed deeply and wondered what to do then. He refused to let in the gnawing quilt that tried to drill its way into his head. That would be dealt with later. For now he felt a soft contentment settle in his drained bones, and he looked at his brother's peaceful face for just a couple more minutes. God, he was beautiful. Maybe life would be okay after all. Maybe this wasn't just as bad as they'd thought. Except it totally probably was, but he didn't care. Not right now.  
  
Then a yawn escaped his lips, and his head fell down onto his brother's chest, and he slumped into a blissful oblivion.


	11. Point-blank

There were faint snuffling noises in the dark room, the soft snoozing of dreaming figures flew around in hazy circles. Their breaths formed an even rhythm, like they were one. Two bodies were tangled up in each other, pressing against the warmth of another living body in the now considerably cooled air. It was peace personified, silent and calm in the midst of the strong currents of a treacherous world. In that small chamber played the soft tune of comfort and safety like a symphony unmatched in grandness and shining resonance.  
  
But the pattern was broken slowly, almost unnoticeably. Dark eyes opened slightly as if to make sure the world was still the same. A stiff body, dulled by sleep, shivered in the cold and shuffled closer to his brother. Vegard's breaths were shallow, for he had now entered the shallow world of reality again. He was cold all over, and the faint glow of the warmth his brother radiated did little to soothe him. He figured he should probably get up and light put a fire in the fireplace to avoid them both getting sick. Still he found himself incapable of moving, there was an invisible chain tying him in one place. It told him this moment was one of its kind, and he should be taking in every fragment of a second of it, for it was entirely too good to be real. Good things rarely happened to him.  
  
At some point during the silently billowing night, Vegard had slumped off Bård and turned to face the wall, like he always did. It was a miracle they both fit into the narrow old bed – and that it held their combined weight - and neither had woken up to the shock of an icy cold surface meeting their half-naked bodies. Bård was neatly tucked up against Vegard's back, the younger brother had pressed his chest against his brother and curled the rest of his long self into a ball to hide from the cold, rather unsuccessfully. He slept soundly, deep breaths echoing in the hollow of his chest.  
  
Vegard knew what had happened yesterday, he knew and acknowledged the knot in his stomach like you greet that old classmate who used to bully you all those years ago. The lump was getting bigger with every second that passed, and it weighed more with every breath that left his lips. It fed on the oxygen he breathed, like a mean flame in his lungs, and left him drawing in air arduously. But it was quelled and restricted by an intense wave inside him. It wasn't love – well, it was love too, certainly – but pure white anger, surging through his veins with renewed force after each heartbeat.  
  
What cruel fate would do that? Love between siblings had to be one of the heaviest curses one could be dealt. It was as if he suffered the penalty at point-blank range, for something he could not help. The unfairness of everything made his eyes burn with tears that weren't there.  
  
Vegard had never believed in Gods, not one, not many, and still right now he had a strong urge to do something to disgrace every higher power said to possess the world. All of this had to be someone's or something's fault, and it killed him not to know the cause. He felt like his sanity was slipping away because he had such and immense anger inside him, but nothing to inflict it on. He needed someone to blame, someone besides himself.  
  
Beside the anger in his guts simmered the familiar feeling with a faint burn. Love. But this particular love was so much more than any he'd ever felt – then again he told himself those exact words each time he fell in love. But he just couldn't ignore the fact that this felt more deep and connected on a level he hadn't thought he'd reach. They were brothers, after all, and they had to share that bond too. The bond of blood.  
  
Now that he had admitted the love to himself – not aloud though, Gods no – a new unease and fright settled over him and clung tightly to his skin like a wetsuit. So many _what if_ s screamed to him to get up and away, this wasn't meant to happen.  
  
What if this endangered their professional or brotherly relationship?  
  
What if they got caught?  
  
What if this love he felt was only the first fascination and would dull as time went by?  
  
What if he would wake up one day and wish for another reality?  
  
What if he would never have children?  
  
 _What if Bård doesn't love me back?_  
  
With a million thoughts circling his mind in an infinite race, he felt like a lover the morning after, minutes before disappearing. He wouldn't go anywhere though, they were in this together now.  
  
Or maybe there was another option? They had been pretty wasted yesterday, and Vegard still lacked bits of what had happened in the evening, though he had the bigger picture clearly drawn out before himself. He rarely forgot things anyway, even when heavily drunk. But what if Bård didn't remember? There was a possibility, a fragment of a chance. Maybe Vegard could get up now and walk out and leave Bård, leave this messed up situation. Maybe he could pretend it had never happened, in case Bård's memory failed. It would certainly ease their lives. Vegard would have to live in denial and longing, but that was surely a better option than this. Right?

  
As silently and discreetly as possible, Vegard turned around to face his brother. He felt his heart drop as his eyes fell upon Bård's features. There was no pain visible on the brother's face, except for the injuries, and Vegard had to be careful not to wake him now that he was sleeping and in a world without pain. Vegard felt some instinct pull on him, and totally without his command his face traveled closer to his brother's. Their lips brushed only slightly, sending the smallest spark of conjoined happiness and hurt through Vegard. Why was this so wrong? Just because they happened to have been born into the same family prevented them from having a life together. Or a public life, at any rate. Vegard's brow wrinkled in emotional pain. He pursed his lips gingerly and placed another kiss on his brother's lips, feeling more than selfish as he did so. He decided this had to be the last one before he got up. Oh, how he would've wanted the beautiful face to be uncovered by bruises and bandages so he could kiss it all over, kiss every freckle and nook, shower his brother with all the love he deserved.  
  
Instead Vegard brought his other hand up to his brother's face and brushed a wisp of hair from his closed eyes. The smooth strands were so short they barely reached behind his ear. Bård needed a shower, Vegard noted. His thumb traced his brother's brows gently, and suddenly blue eyes found his and locked with a soundless click. They stood out against the darker blue and purple background. Vegard held his breath.  
  
Then Bård groaned as if in immense pain and shut his eyes tightly before blinking frantically, eyes watering.  
  
”Are you okay?” Vegard asked with concern and pushed himself up on an elbow.  
  
”Yeah.” Bård grunted, and massaged his eyes lightly. ”No. Damn contacts, forgot to take them out yesterday. Feels like they're burning my eyeballs out. This fucking headache doesn't help either.”  
  
”Oh.” Was all Vegard found to say. A few moments passed as Bård grunted and cursed, trying to get the contact lenses into place again. As he moved around, it struck Vegard that his plan had gone to scrap. He still lay in bed, half naked, with his brother. His brain worked frantically but came up with no way out of it. Bård had stilled again, blue eyes staring at the ceiling, occasionally blinking violently, and the smeared trail of a tear run down the side of his cheek. Vegard couldn't come up with anything of worth to say, so he concentrated on his brother. ”Do they even help?”  
  
”The contacts? No, not really...” Bård trailed off and rubbed his eyes again. The moment those words left his treacherous lips he knew he'd made a mistake. With a little luck Vegard wouldn't catch on it.  
  
”It wasn't the cause of the crash, was it?” Unfortunately luck wasn't often on Bård's side, that's why he relied on looks and charm during the majority of his life. Now that wouldn't help either.  
  
”What wasn't?” He said, knowing exactly what his brother meant. He needed to play himself some time to think. Unfortunately his brother had played these games with him before.  
  
”Your sight, Bård.” Vegard said in a stern voice. Bård bit his lip.  
  
”Yes it is. I thought we went through this already. I didn't see the road because it was dark and my sight has gotten worse, okay?” He didn't feel like talking about the accident, not one bit, and he couldn't understand how Vegard was so stuck up on it.  
  
”You're a lousy liar.” Vegard said and his voice seeped defiance. It was pissing Bård off.  
  
”Seriously, get off my case, would you?” He said and his eyes snapped angrily to his brother who looked at him in disbelief. ”I can't believe how stubborn you are.”  
  
”Bård, please, I need to know...”  
  
”No, you know what? You kicked me out and refused to contact me for two months. Now you absolutely need to know what happened while you sat at home in the light of your fucking TV, huh? If you really _needed_ to know what happened, you would've been there!” Bård was rapidly going toward the line of too much, but he couldn't calm down once he was set in motion. Vegard tried to crack a word into the discussion but Bård silenced him with his own voice. ”Those minutes were the worst minutes of my life. I thought I was going to die in the middle of nowhere, alone. You have no right to question me regarding this, Vegard. So quit nagging.”  
  
”Bård, listen to me.” Vegard breathed, slightly offended and very upset over his brother's words.  
  
” _Y_ _ou_ listen to me!” Bård hissed and his eyes burned again, making him rub ferociously. ”I think we have a _bit_ of a bigger problem at hand than my eyes, okay? So _drop it_.”  
  
”What bigger problem?” Vegard asked, confused and angry now. Bård forced his red and running eyes open and looked at Vegard with an expression that said 'are you fucking kidding me?'.  
  
”We had _sex_ , Vegard!” He exclaimed before returning to molesting his eyes. Vegard froze but Bård kept going though his hands worked feverishly at his face. ”If you don't think that comes with some complications, you're wrong. In fact it comes with so many fucking complications I don't know what to do with myself!” Bård paused to huff, his eyes were closed but his face was still firmly directed towards the ceiling as if he was staring at it, scanning it for a solution. Vegard saw how he bit the inside of his cheek. He seemed to climb down from his intense anger a bit. Vegard felt bad for him. Bård's voice was a hoarse whisper now, as if all emotion was stuck in his throat. ”I'm clueless, Vegard.”  
  
”I'm sorry.” Was the only thing he found within himself to say. And it was true. He was sorry for everything that had happened. He felt his heart drop, and it was a long fall until it hit the bottom and stained his mind with pain and misery. _I'm sorry for loving you._  
  
Bård drew in a shaky breath and slowly turned his head towards Vegard. He opened the reddened eyes and wrinkled his brows as the contacts still burned. He had never really been able to sleep with contacts and feel comfortable, didn't know why, but these were definitely the worst ones he'd ever slept with. It felt like they hurt him because he looked at his brother, it felt like it was his punishment.  
  
”My eyes hurt.” He mumbled weakly and earned a glance from his brother's uncertain brown eyes.  
  
”Close them then.” Vegard said reassuringly, as if speaking to a child. He felt Bård's faint breath against his face as the younger one exhaled and closed his eyes. ”You don't need them to know I'm here. I promised you, remember? I'll be here.”  
  
”Are you talking about what I said back then, when I broke into your house?” Bård asked, still not opening his eyes. Vegard made a sound of agreement. ”I was pretty darn drunk that night, you know? Half of what I said was just pointless crap.”  
  
”I know.” Vegard said and smiled and looked at his brother lovingly. He knew his expressions were safe, because Bård couldn't see him. ”But what I said was genuine.”  
  
Bård found himself blushing slightly. It wasn't that the situation embarrassed him, he'd certainly done more embarrassing things yesterday, but he had never been good at emotional stuff. Neither had his brother though. He was glad he had an excuse not to look at his brother and have to face the awkwardness. He figured now was as good a time as any to talk, when he could avoid opening his eyes and not get called out on it.  
  
”So,” he said at last with uncertainty. Vegard shifted slightly, the nervousness was creeping up his spine. He could almost tell what Bård was going to say. ”yesterday happened then.”  
  
”Yeah.” Vegard answered and swallowed.  
  
”And... you're still here?”  
  
”We're both still here, Bård.” Vegard smiled slightly, and his anxiousness paled a bit. Bård was talking with that vulnerable tone he used when he was uncertain, and Vegard felt like the older brother again. That was when he felt at his best. ”That probably tells something about us.”  
  
”Probably...” Bård breathed, thinking about it. ”What do you mean?”  
  
”I mean that neither of us have freaked out completely yet and just walked out, and that's quite a big deal considering how dangerous and wrong and odd this is.” Vegard said and shifted just a bit closer to his brother.  
  
”Well, I don't know how walking out on you would work, really. We're related, you know. And work with the same thing.”  
  
”Yeah.” Vegard said softly, and his features went serious again. It was as if Bård sensed his brother's mood dropping, because he squinted his eyes slightly to see Vegard. The other one was biting his lip in thought, light wrinkles framing his forehead. ”But really, I don't know what would happen if you actually wanted to quit me.” He said at last, unaware of Bård's blurry eyes on himself. Bård thought about it for a second.  
  
”Do you want me to quit you?” He said after a moment, and the intended jokish tone came through weaker than what he had intended. Vegard sighed and his eyes darted to Bård's face. Bård closed his eyes hastily again, hoping Vegard hadn't noticed him sneaking a look. He could feel his heart beating frantically in the silence that settled deep in their bones for the shortest of moments.  
  
”Of course not.” Vegard answered with a serious tone. ”This isn't an ideal situation, not even plausible, really. I mean, what are the odds that we both suddenly...” he paused to lick his lips in search for the right words. ” ...feel this way after so many years together?” _Assuming I didn't always feel a bit this way,_ Bård thought but only nodded to make his brother proceed. ”But I don't think I'd change a single thing. Call me stupid or disgusting or whatever, but I do find it in me to... enjoy this.” Bård jumped slightly as he felt a finger ghost the side of his jaw where no bruises spread. ”And I enjoyed last night. You'll find the evidence on your shirt.” Vegard whispered with a smirk and Bård chuckled softly. A hand trailed into his blonde hair and he could hear Vegard shuffle closer. He held his breath and closed his eyes just a bit tighter as his stomach fluttered. ”C'mere.” Vegard pulled Bård into his embrace and held him tight. Bård felt partly embarrassed, partly at home and like a small child. He might act tough and douchey at times, but really all he wanted to do was relax into his brother's arms and feel the heartbeat to his own.  
  
”Do you think this is a good idea?” He asked and his voice was that of a child asking his big brother if it was wise to jump out the window with a bed sheet as a parachute.  
  
”No.” Vegard answered, and his face was very close to Bård's now, a warm puff of breath met his cold skin.  
  
”But you're ready to do it?” There was a tiny sprout of hope in Bård's silent words. Vegard smiled.  
  
”We'll see.” A kiss was planted to Bård's forehead, and then Vegard's hands were gone. Bård wanted to tell him to come back, but the older brother crawled over his body and stepped onto the cold floor. ”You should probably get up too, it's Christmas today.” Vegard said as he looked back at his brother curled up at the bed. He was quite a sight, lower body bared and upper body wrapped in a grey t-shirt. There was a patch of dried come on the lower part of the shirt. Their conjoined fluids. Vegard shivered slightly and had to shake his head to chase out any unwelcome thoughts. He cleared his throat and Bård's head turned toward the voice, one eye opening slightly. ”Did you hear me?”  
  
”Yeah. And the answer is no.” Bård said with his usual cheeky grin. ”Not until you've warmed this place up and brought me water and clothes to change into.” Vegard rolled his eyes, always the demanding attitude.  
  
”You should probably take a shower, actually. Your hair is really greasy.” He mumbled as he collected Bård's sweatpants from the floor where they had apparently been shed yesterday.  
  
”Then you better heat the water too.” Oh right, the water had to be manually heated as there wasn't any running water in the house. Vegard had lived too long amid the comfortabilities of a modern city.  
  
”Or maybe I'll just make a hole in the ice and throw you in.” He replied with a spark of jokish snarkiness.  
  
”You wouldn't dare.” Bård grinned though it hurt his nose a bit. ”I'd come and hug you afterwards. Now get me that water.” Vegard huffed and hid his smile by turning to exit the small room, but as he passed the doorway Bård spoke again. There was a tiny hint of challenge in the air. ”Hey Vegard.”  
  
”Yeah?” The older brother called back and turned to his brother.  
  
”I have a better butt than you.” Bård's expression was defiant and stern, completely serious, and it would have been spot on if not for the almost invisible tug at the corner of his lips. Vegard laughed heartily.  
  
”Merry Christmas to you too, brother.” He replied and walked out to make a fire and fetch his brother some water and his medicines. A smile was forgotten on his face for a long time as he scurried around the small building, not bothering to pull on any clothes besides underwear. He could probably use a shower too, or a wash at any rate. _Maybe we can wash togeth-_  
  
No. He shook his head and looked over at the door to the bedroom. The bed was angled so that he had the direct view to the bed. Bård had closed his eyes again, and his mouth was slightly open. An innocent memory washed over Vegard, one of when Bård had accidentally broken an old vase in the cottage, at the age of eight. Their parents had been furious, and the boy had run away, scared as a rabbit. He'd been gone the whole day, and at last everyone had gone out to search for him. Vegard had found him there, at the exact spot he lay now, asleep from exhaustion and with trails of cooled tears still running down his cheeks. He'd walked over to him and curled down beside him, but accidentally woken him up as he did so. The scared boy had started crying again and pleaded Vegard not to tell their parents that he was there. Vegard had only hugged him and told him it was okay, they weren't angry anymore, but Bård hadn't believed him. He insisted Vegard wouldn't tell them, so he didn't. Two hours later Bård had walked into the cottage and into the arms of two rather relieved parents.  
  
Now Bård lay there again, with another secret to keep. One neither Bård nor Vegard would tell anyone, not now, not in two hours, not in five years. It astonished Vegard how Bård still managed to look so innocent where he lay. It was as if all the guilt was pushed onto Vegard, and he felt guilty for thinking that too. It piled on endlessly, because Vegard knew it wasn't easy for Bård either. He would have to cease with the self-pity.  
  
God, why did Vegard feel both so happy and so remorseful at the same time? It was as if someone was beating him and it hurt endlessly, but he enjoyed the numbing feeling that came in between the blows.  
  
He had been shot in the heart, at point-blank range, and it hurt more than anything had ever hurt, because he was the one prosecuted for it. But through his pain and agony he could see a sun rising, and it rose in the west. The world had turned and was spinning in the wrong direction now, as were Vegard's and Bård's lives. Still Vegard refused to give in to the judge and admit his wrongdoing.

There had to be a crime more severe than loving someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! As you may have noticed I am trying to make this story about more than sex and perhaps more about the struggle that comes with this new relationship.
> 
> I'm also sorry to report that there will probably be some time before the next chapter comes out, because I have one hella hectic week coming up (and am also a bit lost when it comes to how the story proceeds, so if anyone has any ideas of thoughts you are most welcome to express them!). I will try to manage another chapter before the upcoming week is due, but I can't guarantee anything.


	12. Grease and Dick-Dogs

It was a beautiful Christmas morning, as cliche as it sounds. It was cold, Vegard's breaths formed crispy frost in his hair as he quickly went out to empty his bladder. He couldn't help but stay at the door of the building for a moment and just watch the sun sparkle on the tiny icy crystals on the ground. He loved this kind of weather, when the frost bit at his cheeks playfully, leaving them red and tingly, and the low sun combined with the pure whiteness of everything blended him slightly. It made him smile like a fool, winter had always been his favourite time of the year. It warmed his mood but not his body, and he shivered as the cold reached his bones. He stepped inside.  
  
If he was in a good mood, then Bård was the direct opposite. He seemed cranky and whiny, reminded Vegard of countless summers and winters at the cottage when not every game had played out like Bård had wanted. Now this was a bit of a bigger game, the game called life, and it was anything but fair.  
  
Vegard pampered his brother while heating up the house and the water in the sauna, bringing him painkillers and tucking him in under the covers. Bård had finally managed to get out the painful contacts, after a great deal of cursing and fussing. Vegard almost rolled his eyes at his brother, sometimes it felt like the younger one made up a show on purpose.  
  
Now the water was hot, and Vegard tried to make Bård emerge from under the masses of covers in the bed. He tried many different means, coaxing, threatening, baiting, pulling... Nothing seemed to work, Bård was as stubborn as ever. At last Vegard gave in and decided to go first, and he enjoyed the hot water as he poured it over himself, though it was annoying to not have that constant stream washing down on you. Finished and pleased with the outcome he dried himself and exited the sauna, hoping for a miracle to have hoisted his brother from his snuggly nest.  
  
Of course he couldn't blame miracles for not happening. After all, how much of a special thing would it be if every desperate wish came true? Still sometimes Vegard wished someone would hear his silent requests and maybe make his life a little easier.  
  
After having dried his hair - and therefore dooming it to go through a metamorphosis and end up a messy bundle of undefined curls - and calling for Bård to get up a few times, he saw no other possible way than to rip off the covers and physically force the stubborn pecker up, but he was a bit reluctant towards that idea. He knew Bård was still only wearing a shirt, and he felt a bit embarrassed to just reveal his body like that. He wouldn't probably have thought twice about it if not for the new situation they were in, Vegard had never been sensitive towards nudity, not really, but somehow it made him uneasy now. One would think it goes the other way around, regarding what was going on, but apparently not.  
  
”Bård, for the last time.” Vegard walked into the chamber with a sigh on his lips, the slightest amount of desperation seething under his breath. ”Get up.”  
  
”No.” Bård grunted and moved under the thick duvet. Vegard sighed audibly, pulling up the sleeves on his shirt and preparing to fight for the duvet. Why couldn't the little shit just switch off the bitch-and-whine-mode and cooperate?  
  
”Yes. Your hair is gross. You need to shower.” Vegard cringed slightly at the motherly tone but pushed it aside as Bård's head peaked out to glare at him. His cheeks were flushed, he was probably hot under the thick covers now that the small building had warmed up again. He stared intently, almost angrily at Vegard, and the older one felt a little confused. He spread his arms in question, his palms directed towards the dark ceiling. ”What?” Bård huffed, clearly upset about something. His mouth curled downward sourly as he stepped onto the floor and discreetly tried to cover his nether parts with his shirt, only to grimace as his fingers touched the dried patch on it.  
  
Vegard felt slightly offended, it wasn't unusual that Bård threw a little tantrum every now and then, but usually Vegard knew the cause to it. Today it seemed totally uncalled for. So as Bård rushed past him, shoving him in the chest with his shoulder, and walked straight to the door to the sauna, Vegard tried to scan his own behavior for anything that could've upset his brother. He found nothing, except the very obvious things from yesterday. He hadn't seemed upset earlier though, so Vegard doubted that was it.  
  
Bård slammed the door shut behind himself, and would surely have locked it if there had been that option. They had accidentally broken the lock when teenagers, they had had some stupid fight neither really remembered anymore. (It had probably been about Bård who had borrowed Vegard's favourite t-shirt again). Bård had stormed into the sauna – the only place with a lock except for the outhouse, and who would want to sit there alone? - and pulled at the lock to prevent his fuming brother from breaking in. As it turned out, the lock – or the door for that matter – wasn't designed to hold the weight and temper of two hormone-pumped teenage boys. It'd snapped and broke and the whole door fell off its hinges and almost crushed Vegard, leaving the two boys a bit startled to say the least. At least they'd made peace with each other and decided to tackle the issue of telling their parents together, although Bård had tried to slink out of it first. The door had been lifted back on its place and a lock-less life was commenced. The boys had had to empty the outhouse together the following day.  
  
Vegard still imagined the click of the lock from many years ago, and decided to drop it at that. It was no use to argue further with Bård and label a bad mood on them both. He walked over to the sofa where Bård's bag had been dropped the day before, and grabbed a yellow towel Bård had packed with him. As if knowing the exact thoughts and movements of each other, Vegard approached the door and, true enough, it opened slightly, and an impatient hand shot out and grabbed the fabric from Vegard's slightly extended arms. The older brother smiled as the door was shut right in front of his nose again, without as much as a word from his brother. Maybe Bård would calm down if he just left him alone, he usually did.  
  
Truth was that Bård was only getting more pissed off and angry, if anything. There was a reason to his bad mood, a justified one in his opinion, but he couldn't really tell it to Vegard. The thing was that he had found it rather difficult to, firstly, dress and undress, and secondly, shower, with only one hand. Now that was still manageable when you had a constant stream flowing down on you, but Bård had an itch that told him it would be next to impossible when you had to manually pour water onto yourself with a scoop while washing yourself. That had almost made him refuse to come to the cabin in the first place, but he knew an argument with his parents about that would still result in him losing, it was a tradition after all, so he'd just pushed the problem forward until it couldn't be prolonged anymore. And now he found himself in a tricky situation. Luckily he still had his stubborn temper and never faltering determination to lend him a hand. He couldn't let his ego be trampled upon by admitting defeat.  
  
Then again, he was quick to notice there wasn't much to trample anymore. He couldn't even figure out the damn shirt by himself. He got tangled in it as he tried by all means to avoid touching the patch of dried cum with any part of his body, and as he got more frustrated and aggressive it just wrapped around him even tighter. It hurt and pulled at his arm, and his injured nose was dangerously close to the part he did _not_ want to bury his face in, and he could physically feel his masculinity and dignity forming beads on his skin before gently dripping off into nothingness. At last he just gave up and bellowed in frustration, knowing it would summon his brother. True enough, Vegard knocked softly on the door before peeking his head inside.

”Are you okay?” He asked, and as he saw his brother standing in the middle of the small sauna, bare thighs adventuring unnecessarily near the hot boiler, upper body and head inside the t-shirt, he couldn't help but smile just slightly. He refrained from laughing or making any funny remark, as he knew the fragile state Bård was in. He knew his brother well enough to know he was going to flip if Vegard as much as made a joke.

”Fucking get over here and take this off me.” Bård grunted when Vegard didn't act fast enough for him.

”Alright, alright. Take it easy.” Vegard said and failed to hide all the amusement in his voice. He walked over to Bård and started to pull off the shirt gently.

”I _am_ taking it easy!” Bård's voice was squeaky like it always was when he was frustrated and told to calm down. Vegard muffled a chuckle. Bård was still that cute grumpy little brother. He would never change.  
  
When Bård was freed from the depths of the shirt, he glared at his big brother with a pout. His naked posture slouched under Vegard's gaze and he looked exactly like the little innocent boy twenty years ago, except now Vegard had to look up instead of down to face him.  
  
”Are you sure you can wash your hair on your own with only one hand?” Vegard asked and nicked towards the cast, trying to drown the awareness of his brother's naked state so near himself. Bård felt very relieved suddenly, because that was exactly his concern too. He didn't know how to reply though.  
  
”I don't know. Maybe.” Vegard rolled his eyes and grabbed Bård by the shoulder, flipping him around and seating him down on a stool in front of himself. Bård sat compliantly, feeling seven years old again, waiting for the one behind him to mix the cold and the hot water and wash his hair. It had used to be his mother, now it was his brother.  
  
Vegard made sure the water was a good temperature before pouring it onto his brother carefully. Then he bent Bård's head back and shampooed his hair until his head was a ball off white bubbles. It smelled familiar, the same soapy scent from their childhood that was strongly imprinted in their memory. It was a combined smell of tar and birch, and that exact brand had always been used at their cabin as long as the two could remember. It sent them both back to a time when golden sunshine had coated the dew-splashed lawn and everything had been a game. Who could undress the fastest? Who dared wash with the coolest water? Who blew the biggest soap bubbles only using their hands and shampoo? Now things weren't anything like that anymore, the two boys had grown up to be two men and they'd failed what had been given to them. Brotherhood wasn't meant to be turned into something else, neither of them should feel so incredibly twisted and pulled by this. Their situation wasn't ambiguous, it wasn't a bit right and a bit wrong, mixed up into something that could maybe live and breathe on its own. It was zero right and a whole load of wrong. But newborn guilt was so incredibly hard to bury under dead innocence.  
  
Vegard massaged Bård's scalp slowly with hands slickened by conditioner. He felt a wave of nausea wash over himself as wobbly pictures from yesterday flowed into his mind. He could almost live with it, almost, if not for that one thing that pierced his stomach like a spear of pure burning guilt. The thought that had shot him yesterday through his dazed drunkedness, both from alcohol and lust, still lived in him and the renewed force of it hit him hard. He wanted so bad to blame it on the lust he'd felt, but he knew in that moment it had been genuine. He had wanted to fuck his brother and make him scream in agony and pleasure.  
  
It pulled at him painfully, twisting and bending his body. His fingers and toes were on fire, while a fierce ice settled around his spine. He could never forgive himself for having those thoughts. It was so incredibly wrong and sick and it made him want to force himself to throw up. He couldn't change what had been done though, so he settled with the next best option. He promised himself he would never ever think those thoughts again, and never in a million years would he act upon them. He had to draw a line somewhere, because otherwise things would spin completely out of control. Like they weren't already.  
  
Carefully Vegard poured the water over his brother's head. Bård had closed his eyes and was thoroughly enjoying the feeling of all the dirt and grease washing away. The water was slightly too warm for his taste, Vegard was one of those who showered in nothing but boiling lava, but he didn't let it disturb him. He felt at peace as the water fell off his skin and splashed onto the tile floor. Vegard's hand was gentle in his hair as he helped the conditioner out of his strands.  
  
”That's about it,” Vegard said when Bård's hair was done. Bård got up and turned towards his brother who was rubbing his hands together awkwardly. ”I'll let you finish up here,” he said bluntly and exited before Bård could as much as say a word. Not that he knew what to say either.  
  
Bård washed the rest of his body and then took off the bandage from his face. It stung as he carefully cleaned the injured area, and he cursed lowly.  
  
He sighed at last and decided he was done with showering now, so he grabbed the yellow towel from where it was hung on a peg and started drying off. He felt a bit dizzy after each time he bent down to dry his feet. Hunger was gnawing at his insides. After struggling for a while the towel finally hung at his hips, and he was ready to exit. He forgot to pick up the shirt that lay on the floor as he stepped to the door. His hand lingered on the door handle for a while until he amassed the - courage? Strength? - undefined power to open the door and face whatever lay beyond.  
  
Vegard sat in the sofa as the door opened and made a creaking sound that matched in uncertainty with his brother's face. For a second and a half Bård looked lost and confused before a blank expression settled on his face. Vegard was a bit taken aback by the bared face of the other one. A red horizontal line of stitches screamed its presence at the back of his nose where the bone had cut through. The area was flaking and dry, probably chafed by the constant usage of bandage over the sensitive area. All in all it looked very painful and Vegard couldn't help but think how big a scar it would leave.  
  
Bård walked over to the couch and dug up a white t-shirt, a navy blue jumper with white figures, worn jeans, underwear and a pair of socks. Vegard decided to give his brother some privacy - though he probably wouldn't have needed any by the looks of it - and disappeared into the bedroom chamber for a couple of minutes.  
  
Finally the two were dressed and ready to leave for breakfast. Bård put a new bandage on his face though Vegard tried to tell him he should probably let the wound breathe a bit. Then as they were stepping out the door Vegard remembered something else important. He yelled halt and Bård turned around a bit confused.  
  
”We better cover this up,” Vegard mumbled as he grabbed one of his own grey scarves and wrapped it around Bård's neck. What on earth had made him think it was a good idea to leave that mark?  
  
”Oh,” Bård said stupidly and touched the slightly swollen and deeply reddened area with his fingers while a faint blush spread underneath his dark purple skin. ”Yeah.”  
  
Bård seemed oddly happy suddenly, he talked a lot with Vegard and even joked about something as they walked from the guest house to the main building. It was odd how frequently his mood changed these days, Vegard thought as he padded along his brother's side. It was like Bård's teenage years all over again. He didn't complain though.  
  
”You missed Bjarte's news yesterday, by the way.” The younger brother said excitedly. ”He has a dog.”  
  
”Really?” Vegard replied and sounded half as intrigued as he probably should've. ”Since when? Why hasn't he told us?”  
  
”Since, um... October maybe? I can't seem to recall what he said when he first told us. I was a bit occupied with the wine.” Bård mumbled something as he tried to remember what had been discussed at the table after Vegard had left yesterday. ”He told us lots of things about it. A wild little rascal, he said, not very old. I think he said it was a – what are they called? Those spaniels that sound like dicks?”  
  
”Cocker Spaniel,” Vegard said and rolled his eyes.  
  
”Exactly! Funny little thing, he said. Hair so thick he doesn't need to hoover his apartment.”  
  
”Yeah? What's its name?”  
  
”Angel.” He said, but his forehead developed wrinkles. ”Or was it Alanya? I don't... Well, doesn't matter. You can ask him yourself soon whe – shit!” He almost tripped over his long legs as they climbed the few icy stairs to the front door of the house. He giggled awkwardly as he grabbed the hand Vegard extended towards him to help him up. Vegard was absolutely confused, a bit amused and a little worried, but he shook it off as they stepped into the warm house and were greeted by the rich scent of porridge and cinnamon, and the light of candles encircled them as they exchanged wishes of a merry Christmas with the rest of their family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well we didn't get to the actual Christmas activity yet after all it seems. My head has been dead the past week and I couldn't come up with anything of worth so I guess this is kind of a short filler.  
> Anyway I figured I wont write that much about the actual Christmas Eve because I don't want to include the rest of their family very strongly in this. So there will be a bit of Christmas in the following chapter but not all that much.  
> I hope you enjoyed!


	13. In Five Years

The Ylvisåker family had a lot of Christmas traditions. In the morning they ate porridge and drank hot mulled wine, and the one lucky person who found an almond in his or her bowl would not have to do the dishes during the entire holiday (it was collectively known that Bård cheated as best he could, because doing dishes was not his thing). Today Bjarte was the lucky fecker to get this divine privilege, which Bård still couldn't escape despite his whining and his hurt arm.  
  
Then they would heat the sauna – this was when Bård suddenly shot up and offered to do it, because he remembered the shirt he'd forgotten about – and their mother and father would go first, and the boys after. Bård couldn't go for all his injuries though.  
  
After the sauna the whole family would gather in the living room. A fire would be put in the small fireplace whether needed or not, and a dozen candles would be lit even if it still was somewhat light outside. Then Vegard and Bård would take to their instruments, usually Bård with his guitar or violin and Vegard on the old piano they had at the cabin for this exact purpose. Today, however, Bård obviously couldn't play any instrument very well, so Vegard grabbed Bård's guitar and their mother played the piano. Bård and Vegard's upbringing in Africa had left them with a very isolated life, and two young boys sitting inside all day hadn't been the easiest thing to achieve. That was why they could play so many instruments – not maybe that well, but still – because their parents had bought them many different instruments to keep them occupied. Bjarte wasn't all that interested in all this singing and playing instruments stuff, but he never complained. He knew what it meant to the rest of his family who had been doing this thing for countless years.  
  
They played and sang together until darkness settled around the small cottage and the lighting became too dim for the instrumentalists to see what they were playing. As the last round of applause and laughter rang through the room, Vegard felt a hand on his thigh. It gave a small complimentary squeeze, and a shy smile played on Bård's lips when Vegard turned his head to the man who was sitting beside him. After a moment of consideration Vegard let his own hand fall down onto Bård's, and he squeezed it for the shortest of moments before it was gone. It was as if there was a bubble around them, only the two of them, and none of the other family-members noticed a thing.  
  
They were pulled into the real world by their mother's jolly voice.It was time for dinner.  
  
And what a dinner it was. They would have fed a family twice their size with that amount of food. It smelled like heaven and tasted like something worthy of more than worldly praise. Needless to say their mother was showered with compliments throughout the dinner. They laughed and shared stories, Bjarte told a lot about his puppy who indeed was called Alanya, or Allie for short. She was back in the US at a friend of his. Vegard wasn't all _that_ interested in hearing about every rug the dog had chewed, and after fifteen minutes of speaking back and forth about how it still peed inside sometimes, Vegard decided to stop concentrating fully on the discussion and instead focus on the food on his plate. He kept catching Bård's eyes more than was probably appropriate. A foot bumped into his a couple of times during the conversations, but there really was no telling if it was Bård or someone else.An hour and a half later they all leaned back in their chairs, bellies stuffed and laughter flying across the table in a merry mood. Nobody was drunk though, because the Ylvisåkers didn't drink on Christmas Eve. That's why they'd had some yesterday.  
  
After the dinner typically followed the anticipation of opening presents, however that had subsided as the years flew by, and the last time anybody had gotten presents was four years ago when Bjarte had been twenty years old. All three boys still used to receive knitted jumpers every Christmas though, so also this one, and Vegard and Bård used to give each other presents the day after, though they had no idea where that had started from.  
  
Instead of collectively dealing out presents, they did another thing that served as a gift for the whole family. It was another great tradition in the Ylvisåker family, and it had actually been going for a good fifteen years already. It had started as a family photo that had been taken on a Christmas Eve with the five of them. These days they all used to laugh about it. It was a dear and sacred family relic, though it was probably the ugliest photo ever taken.  
  
The eldest and the youngest brothers stood to the far left on the photo. Vegard had been nineteen at the time, a handsome young man, but the camera had captured his face in an odd twisted expression, because the seven-year-old rascal Bjarte had beat him in the stomach (thank God not a single inch lower), with a baseball bat he had just unwrapped minutes ago, right as the camera went off. Naturally the youngest brother had a huge toothless grin on his face as he did so. In the middle stood their mother and father, warm smiles on their faces. One could easily tell they were a happy couple with wonderful children, even though the picture was highly unsuccessful on their parts too. Their mother had - for some inexplicable reason – worn a huge orange shirt. In hindsight one could say it looked extremely unflattering. Her hair had also been curled in rather unruly curls which made her look years older. Their father had had his arm around their mother as he leaned in towards her. Unfortunately he had happened to blink at the exact moment the camera went off, and had a rather odd looking expression plastered on his face. At the time he had sported a great bushy mustache too, which – fortunately - was gone these days. Beside them, to the right, stood Bård with a big grin on his face. He was sixteen in the photo, and was just going through a change from boy to, well, less boy. His face was round and had the plumpness of a child, full with pimples, and his hair was very short, the exact length he disliked so much.  
  
All in all it was a hideous photo. Even the lighting was crap, and the quality overall was very poor. But it was a nice thing to have as a memory.  
  
Speaking of memories, the photo had been buried on the bottom of some drawer for a whole year until it was dug up again on the following Christmas. They'd laughed until they'd cried when they remembered their reactions the year before when everyone had agreed on never bringing it up again. Then they had got an idea. They'd take a photo every Christmas, a photo where they held the photo from last year in their hands, to kind of document the changes that every year brought them.  
  
Changes indeed. It was fairly safe to say they had all gone through some of those, if they were good or bad wasn't the point. But today, as their father was lining them up in front of the camera, Bård found himself facing an almost unbearable change. He felt anxious and almost nauseous where he stood tucked in between his mother and his younger brother, and he had absolutely no desire to take a photo. They had forced him to remove the bandage earlier to show the wound to them, and he had done it with great reluctance, after an infinite amount of encouragement.  
  
He didn't really know why he felt that way, but he was determined to tell himself it was something deeper than the need to look good. Of course he had always been interested in his appearance and looks, but he wanted to believe he wasn't _that_ shallow a person. The only reasonable, or maybe not so reasonable, explanation was that the injury mirrored the turns that his life, specifically regarding his brother, had taken during these past months. He had figuratively been ripped open by some indefinable force, his feelings had been stirred with vigorous care, and he had been closed up by careless hands, leaving a long scar where his previously hidden feelings had lain. And he had no desire to show off that scar to anyone, let alone capture it on an image, not even if they wouldn't understand what it meant.  
  
”I need to go take a piss.” He mumbled and started making his way towards the door in a slight haste. Vegard and their father were hunched around the camera which had had some seizure earlier, and Bjarte was talking on the phone with some friend of his.  
  
”Right now? We're going to take the picture soon,” their mother shot up her head from where she was occupied with some magazine, barely able to read in the dimness of the room.  
  
”Doesn't look like it,” Bård muttered under his breath before calling back with a smile. ”I'm gonna be really quick.” But he knew that was a lie. He would probably try to be away for as long as possible to maybe make them forget about him and take the photo without him. Not that that would ever happen.  
  
Restless footsteps plowed their way in the newly fallen snow, leading him back to the guest-house. He recognized the faint numb tingling of pins and needles in his right leg as he walked, he'd probably sat in one place for too long. At the stairs to the guest-house he shook and stretched his limbs a bit to get the stiffness out. He cast a quick glance at the main building, and in the warmly glowing window he saw Vegard and his father laughing at something. A cold shiver went through his body.  
  
Inside he turned the lamp on and flung himself down on the couch. He felt completely drained all of a sudden, as if he'd run a long way. After having rested his eyes for a second, only breathing the silence that surrounded him for the first time in hours, he blinked a few times and looked to his right where his bag still lay. He reached into it with his working hand and it collided with the small bottle of painkillers. He popped a pill into his mouth. He didn't really have a headache – maybe he could pretend having one? - but he felt like taking one anyway. He turned the small bottle in his hand and read the text in many languages.  
  
 _Side effects: May cause nausea if consumed with alcohol. May cause addiction._  
  
He huffed and put the bottle away. Fueled by a deep breath he rose from the hard cushions and looked around the room, feeling a bit goalless. An odd sentimentality nested tightly inside him, and all he wanted was to crash into the bed and sleep three days in a row. It wasn't often he didn't want that though, but this particular feeling was new.  
  
He knew it wasn't all about the wound, of course it wasn't because that would've been shallow and stupid. It wasn't all even about Vegard. Of course that was a major issue in his life, but what was really weighing on him, what was actually dragging him down and strapping him to the bottom of the ocean, was the lack of those familiar routines that working with IKMY brought with it. Sure it was draining, sure it wasn't all _that much_ routines actually, but at least he felt as if he had a goal when working with the show. At least he felt as if he did something that mattered, as if he made a difference, even if he actually maybe didn't. Now he felt restless as he always did when without a contract, and this time he didn't even know if the people on TVNorge wanted him with this new face of his. For all he knew they might not want him on national TV anymore.  
  
As he stood there, sunken deep in his doubting thoughts, Vegard's phone went off where it sat on a small counter. Bård picked it up and looked at the screen. Calle's name blinked furiously in the beat of the simple tune.  
  
”Ylvisåker,” he answered, knowing the manner in which Vegard replied to calls. He didn't want to give himself away just yet. Maybe he could escape being himself for just a few seconds.  
  
”Hi,” Calle's cheery voice sounded into his ear. There was a low music playing in the distance. ”Merry Christmas, pal!”  
  
”Right back at you,” Bård laughed and he felt his mood lifting just by hearing his friend's voice.  
  
”Thanks. This wouldn't by any chance be Bård? Or are you just oddly nasal and shrill today?”  
  
”Hey! Don't you pick on my voice!” Bård said accusingly, barely hiding the amusement. Calle laughed slightly.  
  
”I knew it!” he chimed happily. ”I know you guys far too well for you to be able to fool me.”  
  
Bård huffed, ”I didn't even try. I could bullshit you whenever I wanted!”  
  
”Sure. I've seen you try, dear Ylvisåker. Try, but never succeed.” Calle sighed as if he'd just announced a tragedy. Bård smiled to himself, God he loved the sarcasm of this man. Calle was absolutely flawless. ”Anyway, I tried to call you, actually, but apparently being the busy showbiz snob you are, you had no time to answer me. Nobody has time for poor Calle, it seems.”  
  
”Yes, because poor Carl Fredrik -” Bård dragged out the name, twisting it on his tongue. He knew how much Calle disliked being called by his real names. He had to put up at least a little fight, right? What with being called 'busy showbiz snob'. ”- would be _absolutely_ devastated if he didn't get to talk to his man-crushes.” Bård swallowed back a chuckle, a little proud of the challenging sarcasm in his tone.  
  
”Alright, listen here, you prick. Let's get this straight. It's _Calle,_ alright?” Bård giggled – in a manly way, of course - at the lecturing tone in Calle's words. ”And also, secondly, I actually am spending Christmas alone, so someone to talk to wouldn't be all that bad really.” There was an awkward silence that lasted only half a second too long to pass unnoticed.  
  
”I thought you had a date,” Bård said monotonically, immediately feeling like the worst friend on earth. The joy was gone as autumn leaves in the wind.  
  
”I _have_ a date, yes. But she's with her family. Bit early on in the relationship to start spending big holidays together, don't you think?” Calle mumbled now, a faint rustling bearing over to Bård as he shifted on the other side of the line. ”I've called her earlier today though.”  
  
”Oh,” was all Bård was capable of producing on form something to say. He felt stupid and useless when it came to this, and to be entirely honest he didn't need yet another reason to feel guilty. While he scanned the deepest corners of his brain for a comforting sentence, Calle seemed to move on from the awkward situation.  
  
”I talked to Magnus too. He's with his family in Sweden, I think.” He paused for a second before continuing. ”And of course I spoke to Øyvind and Anders. Øyvind even promised to stop by tomorrow to dig me up from my pit of self-pity.”  
  
”Well that's nice.” Bård replied bluntly. The jokiness was already back in Calle's voice, but Bård still felt a bit guilty for his friend to have to spend Christmas alone. He had never been alone one single Christmas Eve himself, but he could imagine it didn't feel all that good with all the family advertisement on TV and radio and such.  
  
”Yeah, it is,” sounded the simple reply and the two of them fell in silence again. This time it wasn't as awkward as before, Bård rather enjoyed just listening to Calle's faint breath. He quite missed the man. It had been some time since they'd seen last. ”How's the arm, by the way? And your face?”  
  
”Oh, it's alright. Getting better every day.” Bård sighed. He'd told these things over and over again many times already. He knew the drill. ”Hurts a bit, but nothing bad. Doc put me on some addictive pills though, so that'll be fun to quit...” Calle laughed and Bård huffed a bit too, a smile tugging at his lips. ”But really though, it's all okay.”  
  
”Well that's good.” There was genuine care in Calle's voice. Not a hint of a joke or sarcasm. What a rare thing to hear, Bård thought. ”Anyway, I think I'm gonna release you from my grasp now. Won't keep you away from your parents and bros for too long.”  
  
”No, really, I'm not busy at all,” Bård said hastily, wanting very much to speak to Calle some more, if only to decrease the level of loneliness that his friend was feeling. He knew his family awaited him too though.  
  
”You're a lousy liar, Bård.” Calle said and Bård could hear the smile on the other man's lips. He could read Bård like an open book and saw right through his tricks and attempts.  
  
”Seems to be a popular opinion,” Bård muttered, thinking back on what Vegard had said earlier.  
  
”Yeah? Must be true then. Or maybe it's just your general lousiness, totally indifferent regarding lies.”  
  
”Asshole.” Bård said with a huff and Calle chuckled.  
  
”Bye then, Bård.”  
  
”Bye. Merry Christmas.”  
  
Bård stared at the screen of the phone until it went dark. He felt a little mixed after hearing Calle, on one hand happy to hear from his friend, but on one hand pitying. He pushed a button on the phone and the screen lit up again, showing Vegard had received a couple of texts too. Among them one from Magnus.  
  
He put down the phone and decided it was probably time to be heading back to the house and just take the damn photo and get over his face. It wasn't as if it would be getting any better even if he waited ten more minutes.  
  
He walked across the room to the door, but caught his own eyes in a small mirror on the wall. He hadn't actually examined his face that closely since he'd been released from the hospital. Partly because he hadn't wanted to believe it, and partly because he was afraid of how he'd look. Now, however, he locked eyes with himself and stepped closer to the mirror, tracing one light finger over the horizontal scar.  
  
Suddenly the red line of stitches seemed like a mocking grin, crudely carved onto his face by a menacing evil to rob him of his innocence, like a plague stealing life. He shivered slightly and swallowed, feeling a bit ill by looking at the scar. It was like an ominous warning embroidered onto his skin to remind him of how breakable he was. If his armour looked like granite but was of brittle glass, he could only wonder what his insides were.  
  
A soft click interrupted Bård's thoughts and he looked to the door through the mirror. Vegard stepped in, shivering from the cold, cocking an eyebrow at Bård.  
  
”Hey,” he said, but it was more a question than a greeting.  
  
”I'm coming,” Bård answered with a sigh, eyeing his face yet another time. ”Just a second.” Bård expected Vegard to turn around and exit, but instead he walked up to his brother and stopped beside him, looking at his own dark curls in the mirror.  
  
”It's been well over a second,” he said flatly after a moment of silence. Bård realized he was looking at Vegard's reflection rather than his own, and Vegard probably knew it. ”Your sense of time is bad.” Bård smiled and dropped his eyes to the floor, bringing his hand up to ruffle his blonde hair a bit. Vegard turned to face his side, bending his own head a bit to the side to try and see Bård's face. ”We got the camera working again. We should be getting back.”  
  
”Yeah,” Bård said and his smile paled. He could physically feel his stomach making knots just by the thought of appearing like this on a photo. Vegard's brows furrowed as if he sensed the tension in Bård.  
  
”Are you okay? Has something happened?”  
  
”No,” Bård replied hastily without meeting the other one's eyes. ”Just needed some time to think.”  
  
”What'd you think about?” Vegard asked and Bård huffed a laugh. Typical Vegard to push him with questions he couldn't give an answer to.  
  
”Never mind,” he mumbled and straightened his back a bit, deciding it would be time to shred the layer of self-pity. ”How'd you know I was here, anyway?” Vegard laughed as if Bård had just asked the stupidest question. Well, he probably had, but whatever.  
  
”Yeah, 'cause that's so difficult to guess, right?” he smiled. ”I used my superpowers, obviously. Specifically the one called 'knowing my predictable little brother'. Also that one called - what is it called? - oh yes, common sense.” Vegard grinned and waved a hand in Bård's face. ”Not that I expect you to understand what that means.” Bård rolled his eyes and hit his brother playfully in the shoulder, but Vegard wasn't done yet. ”It's not all that difficult to know where you're hiding, Bård, especially when there really aren't that many places to hide in here. Plus I always know where you are.” His voice dropped low to create an exaggerated mysteriousness. ”You know, I feel it in the water, I feel it in the earth, I smell it in the air...”  
  
”Oh come on!” Bård groaned. ”Enough with that nerd crap already. What movie are you quoting this time? Star Wars?”  
  
”Lord of the Rings, actually. I'm disappointed.” Vegard sighed with pretended hurt.  
  
”I'm sorry, I should've known, _obviously._ I should know every crap nerd movie there is, shouldn't I?” Bård started fixing his hair with his hand while Vegard grinned at him. ”Maybe I can join your nerd club one day, as soon as I qualify as a full nerd.”  
  
”Alright, I got your point,” Vegard laughed as he watched Bård's hand work with his strands. ”Come on, your hair is fine. We gotta go!”  
  
”Yeah, yeah,” he sounded a bit annoyed as he dragged his hand trough his hair one last time before only standing still, looking at his reflection in the mirror. He flashed a pretentious smile at himself, sighed deeply and shook his head. ”What if they don't want me?”  
  
”On the photo?” Vegard snorted. ”I'm pretty sure they don't mind you being on it. That's probably the reason why mom sent me to get you from your 'peeing-adventure'.”  
  
”Shut up, stupid,” Bård groaned. ”I mean TVNorge. What if they won't give me a contract.”  
  
”Of course they will,” Vegard stated cheerfully, trying to maintain a non-depressed mood in his gloomy brother's company. ”Why wouldn't they?” At that Bård turned away from the mirror, pointing at his face, eyes wide and brows arched as if stating the obvious. Vegard sighed and rolled his eyes. ”Oh come on, that's just absurd. They can't judge you on behalf of an accident.”  
  
”You seriously think they want someone who looks like a gang fighter on national TV? They have a reputation to maintain, you know? Think of all the feedback they'd get about my face.”  
  
”I don't think your face matters as long as you have your humour and wit.” Vegard said, earning a glare from Bård which he only shrugged off. ”What? That's the essence of the show, always has been. Your handsome face is just a bonus.” But Bård didn't seem convinced. He pulled a grimace and walked over to the couch, followed by his brother.  
  
”But really though. What will I do if I don't get the contract?” He picked up the bottle of pills and turned it in his hands before remembering he already had one too much. He put it down again with a sigh. ”That show is my life.”  
  
Vegard knew the show was Bård's life. It had been his life much before it had ever been Vegard's. Of course Vegard loved it and worked hard for it, but he didn't do it all for the show or himself. Most of it, yes. He put ninety percent of himself into the show because of the love for comedy and the people. But the ten remaining percent he owed Bård. He would probably not have been in this branch at all if not for his brother.  
  
”Quit whining,” he said after a moment, hoping to keep a careless tone. He knew how much was on stake here. ”You'll get the contract. And if you don't, I won't sign mine either. Ylvis is a duo, and TVNorge can't afford to lose us both.”  
  
Bård threw himself down on the couch with a heavy sigh. He rubbed his eyes – or eye, because he only had one hand - and traced a finger over his nose, hoping a miracle would've smoothed the uneven line away. Feeling a vast wave of agitation and irritation wash over him, he buried his face in his hand with a muffled groan.  
  
”Relax, Bård.” Vegard said and touched Bård's head with a careful hand. He petted the fair hair lightly before his hand grabbed Bård's where it was plastered on his face. ”Hey, you'll get it. You're one in a million, and they know it.” Bård's hand was carefully pulled away from his face, and the younger brother looked up to meet his brother's dark and peaceful eyes. Vegard smiled and bent down slightly, kissing the back of Bård's hand that lay limp in his own. Bård inhaled silently as Vegard's smooth lips touched his skin, and the spot tingled slightly after the touch was broken. It was as if the pins and needles from his foot had transferred to his hand, burning and pricking with a numbing flame. The same flame spread in his veins as his heart beat furiously as if trying to scream its existence to the other heart inside Vegard's chest.  
  
”Come on,” Vegard whispered encouragingly, pulling at Bård's hand slightly. ”Let's go.”  
  
Bård stood up and the two made their way to the door, hand in hand. Bård felt as if he was going to melt and drip down some metaphorical drain. He felt an odd kind of happiness. A new kind. A love kind.  
  
Unfortunately this newborn bliss was ruthlessly slaughtered as the two passed the mirror and Bård caught his own reflection smiling back at himself like a loon. That very smile paled swiftly and Bård stopped in his tracks. His hand slid out of Vegard's and the older brother turned to look at him.  
  
”Bård,” he said, and there was true pity in his voice now. He realized how difficult emotions his brother actually was battling, probably the exact same he himself was dealing with, plus the anxiety over the contract. He could see the naked pain in Bård's eyes as the man traced the rough skin on his nose with a faintly trembling finger. ”Bård, I promise you -” he said and grabbed Bård's hand again, ”- that we'll laugh about this in five years. The picture will be a funny memory, just like the previous pictures are. I promise.” Bård looked at him with uncertain eyes, and Vegard nodded in encouragement.  
  
”Five years is a long time,” he said at last, voice nothing more than a faint whisper.  
  
”But it'll come,” Vegard said with a soft but sure certainty. ”Eventually.”  
  
The smallest smile sneaked its way onto Bård's lips and he nodded once, squeezing Vegard's hand before letting go. They made their way to the door and out in the cold dark. The wind howled between the trees as they made their way through the snow, trying to walk in the footsteps that had been previously made by them.  
  
”Finally!” Their mother exclaimed as they opened the door. ”That's one hell of a bladder you have, Bård.”  
  
Bård and Vegard exchanged smiles as they walked into the living-room. The camera was ready and so was the family. Bård and Vegard ended up standing beside each other on the far left side. Vegard noticed how Bård kept scratching his thigh and shifting his weight, a sign of nervousness that Vegard rarely ever saw. Bård had nerves of steel and it took a lot to make him uneasy.  
  
”Hey,” he whispered and moved an inch closer to Bård. Their mother was adjusting Bjarte's clothes and fussing about his hair, and their father stood behind the camera, waiting to put on the self-launcher. ”It's okay.” Bård nodded curtly and cleared his throat, licking his lips quickly. Everything was finally ready.  
  
Their father pushed the button and a beeping started. He sprinted over to the others and everyone put on a smile. Their mother, who stood in the middle, held the picture from last year in her hands, proudly keeping it up for the camera.  
  
A second before the camera went off, Vegard closed the little space there was between him and Bård. He snatched his brother's hand from where it fumbled around on his thigh and swiftly guided it behind them and closed the gap between their legs. He squeezed Bård's hand tightly, affirmingly,and it was all happening behind them and out of view from the camera. Bård smiled widely as the sharp light flashed and blinded him. They had a picture of the two of them holding hands now, captured in that way forever, and no-one except them would ever know.  
  
In five years they wouldn't only laugh. In five years they would look at the picture and remember the adrenaline and the love surging through their veins, their awkwardly tangled fingers fumbling to get a hold of the other one. Bård would smile and reflect over this very moment, and he would remember the exact fragment of a second when he understood the utter vastness of his emotional investments in this man. He would recall the definite point in history when the true force of his love made itself known within his beating heart.  
  
He couldn't wait for the countless other memories these five years would bring.


	14. Be Forever Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's been a while since the last chapter. I'm also sorry because it will probably be a while until the next chapter too as I'm going to my relatives for a couple of days tomorrow, and I can't write there. I hope you enjoy this chapter though!

How do you tell your brother you're not feeling well? It was an issue Bård had fought with all his life. He didn't want to be a whining weakling or a pampered baby, and besides admitting to be feeling these physical faults in his system made him feel, somehow, oddly vulnerable. Alarmingly human.  
  
He didn't claim to be anything else than human though, but at times feeling – or perhaps the lack of feeling altogether – some non-human feelings wouldn't be any less welcome than a package of tissues and a warm blanket and some tea. He was more than thankful for the pills his doctor had given him. The headache had flung him into momentary despair when he had woken up.  
  
They'd spent another two days with their family at the cottage, not really interacting with each other all that much. You could almost call it avoiding. It wasn't angry or ignorant, but more subconscious dancing around each other, tiptoeing and subtly evading any lurking awkwardness. Vegard had insisted to sleep on the sofa and let Bård have the bed. In the mornings Bård had found his brother on the floor, turned to face the short wooden legs and the dusty floor underneath. He had to admit the couch was hard and uncomfortable to even sit on, but he would probably disagree on the floor being a better place to sleep. Then again Vegard was one of those to always find a comfortable place after turning and tossing enough.  
  
Their little tradition, or unspoken agreement, of exchanging Christmas gifts the morning after had been broken for the first time in years. Originally Bård had intended not to buy anything at all, just to give some ground, some measure to how bad he still felt about being kicked out by his brother. But he had bought one anyway because Vegard would probably give him something, and only God knew what would follow if he didn't have anything to give back. And it was an ageold tradition after all.  
  
Only this time neither of the boys had known how to approach the other one. Both feared they'd be the only one to have a gift because of what had happened before Christmas, and thus would cause an awkward scene. So they silently waited for the other one to take the initiative.  
  
So that was the situation. Now the two of them sat in the car in stale silence, listening to the humming of the engine and the drumming tires each time Vegard hit a bump in the road. The stupid radio had stopped working for some reason, and neither wanted to delay getting home any further. Bård could only wish for Vegard to drive as fast as he dared on the slippery road, for he was feeling increasingly sick by every passing second. He hadn't told Vegard he felt sick, he didn't need him knowing, but at the same time he wanted him to know so he could drive the shortest and most effective way home.  
  
They would very much have wanted to stay with their family a bit longer, but they had to get home in time for the removal of Bård's stitches. He hoped it was still possible to get done even if he got sick. Thinking about the amount of snot in his nose made him unnecessarily aware of it and he sniffled in frustration, which then irritated something in his throat and made him cough in slimy barks. _Stupid move,_ he thought to himself as he practically _felt_ the alert look Vegard threw at him. The concern and care the older brother showed each time Bård was sick would've been a lot more comforting and welcome if Bård hadn't known it was all because Vegard wanted to avoid becoming sick himself. When Bård was sick and out of work Vegard used to call him every day to make sure he was okay and had everything he needed, but as soon as there was a problem, such as the need for more food from the grocery store, he would always try to put Calle or Magnus or someone else on the task. Only if everybody else refused or couldn't would he go, and even as he did, he only dropped the bags right inside the door, shouted a hi and left. Now maybe it was a bit selfish of Bård, but sometimes he wished Vegard would get sick too (but if it was because he wanted someone to be sick with or because he wanted Vegard to suffer as much as he did wasn't up for discussion).  
  
To his relief, Vegard turned his head back to the road in front of them. Bård didn't want to hear another lecture about what to do and not do when you're sick. He let his head fall against the cold window, the glass cooled his temple nicely. He realized he was probably developing a fever. He always got that goddamned fever when sick.  
  
However long he tried to keep from coughing he just couldn't keep it inside. It was almost as if something exploded inside his throat every ten seconds, and he probably looked as if he was about to throw up when he held back the coughs. Finally he couldn't keep it anymore, and a rattling, rustling cough left his slightly dry lips. One could clearly hear the mucus and slime in his throat and lungs.  
  
”Are you getting sick?” Vegard asked, glancing at his brother repeatedly while steering the car on the dark road.  
  
”Very alert, Vegard,” Bård answered, clearly not amused. ”Actually I think I _am_ pretty sick already.”  
  
”You didn't seem all that bad in the morning though,” Vegard mumbled half to himself. ”You seemed pretty normal.”  
  
”I did mention the headache,” Bård offered, ”but I guess you didn't listen.”  
  
”I listened,” Vegard claimed calmly and the two fell into a moment of dense silence as Vegard shifted to the oncoming lane to drive past an old smelly car that had been driving unnecessarily slowly in front of them for minutes. Bård disliked passing cars on the wrong lane and he concentrated hard on the road in front of him even though he could see there wasn't any cars in sight coming their way. They were soon back on the right side of the road again and Bård relaxed slightly.  
  
”I listened,” Vegard repeated and tapped the steering wheel with his thumb, ”but it isn't very big news that you have a headache every five minutes. I think you should go get that checked anyway, can't be normal to have as much headaches as you have.”  
  
Bård sighed audibly to display his irritation. He decided to ignore the last bit of what Vegard had said. ”Well it wasn't a normal headache,” he made a mocking face out to the darkening woods that surrounded the road like a thick wall. ”Or maybe it was and then the flu fell on me after that.”  
  
”Be it any way, I don't think you should stay alone at the hotel,” Vegard said suddenly and Bård turned his head to his older brother, not entirely sure he'd heard right. Vegard's face betrayed no emotion as his eyes were steadily on the road, but his thumb drummed faster on the leather wheel.  
  
There was two options, Bård realized. One; Vegard indicated he should try to move in with Calle for some time. It was entirely possible, that was after all what he had suggested in the beginning. Or two; he tried to awkwardly ask Bård to move in with him again – which probably was not the case. Bård decided not to jump to conclusions and rather wanted his brother to make it clear what he meant before saying anything further.  
  
”You don't think I can take care of myself?” he asked skeptically.  
  
”No, it's not that,” he shook his curly head, ”I know you can take care of yourself. At least most of the time.” There was a little mocking twist to his words and Bård grinned slightly against the window. ”But you know, it's totally unnecessary for you to pay for the hotel room when you could stay somewhere else for free.” He fell silent and Bård knew it was his turn, but he still wasn't entirely sure of what his brother meant.  
  
”Well,” he said carefully, ”I'll get to applying for an apartment soon, I promise. I could ask Calle if I can stay with him in the meantime.” Bård hoped Vegard would say something more on the matter, maybe offer him the couch at his place, but Vegard was entirely silent. It was almost as if the conversation hadn't happened at all. Vegard's thumb stilled on the wheel.  
  
\- - -  
  
Restless dreams plagued Bård for a couple of hours. He didn't know when he'd fallen asleep, but evidently he had as the next thing he knew was the lack of the engine humming around him. He looked around through dazed eyes and discovered the car had stopped. They weren't outside the hotel though. Bård looked at Vegard confusedly.  
  
”What? Get up, lets go.” Vegard clapped his hands together without meeting Bård's eyes. He stepped out of the car and Bård did the same, trying to catch his brother's eyes again outside across the roof of the car. Vegard ducked down to grab his bags from the back of the car and Bård sighed and rolled his eyes. It was as if they had a game going on. He leaned on the roof with one hand, staring intently at the spot where Vegard's head would inevitably have to come into view sooner or later. The odd behaviour of his brother both amused and irritated him. Vegard rose after a moment, tossing his head back to get the dark curls out of his eyes.  
  
”Your bags are on that side,” he said, nodding his head towards Bård. The younger brother ignored him.  
  
”Vegard, we're not at Calle's place,” he said firmly, demanding an answer to what he already had a suspicion of.  
  
”Certainly not,” Vegard answered nonchalantly and threw a bag on his shoulder. Bård glanced quickly in through the window to the backseat and spotted the rest of his few bags from the hotel. Vegard had been to his room and got his things. He looked up at his brother again, who was trying to figure out how to carry all his stuff.  
  
”We're at your place,” Bård said skeptically.  
  
”Affirmative.”  
  
”My bags are here,” he opened the door slowly to check if everything indeed was there.  
  
”I got them for you. You slept so deeply and I didn't want to wake you up,” Vegard said and rounded the car, several bags hanging off his shoulders. He pushed Bård gently aside and grabbed a couple of his bags. ”You're gonna have to take the rest, I'm packed like a donkey.”  
  
”I thought I was gonna stay at Calle's?” Bård asked as they walked to the house. He felt really happy to get to stay at Vegard's, it was what he'd wanted all along, but he couldn't show it straight out. He had to keep up his ego.  
  
”Well I thought it was a bit late to call him so I just decided you could stay at my place just as well,” he trailed off and muttered something Bård couldn't hear as he opened the door, fumbling slightly wih the key. Bård furrowed his brow and glanced that the big clock Vegard had in his hallway. It was a quarter past eight, not even near too late to call Calle. A small smile sneaked its way to his lips and a fuzzy feeling was born in his guts. ”Make yourself comfortable,” Vegard said as he carried his bags off to wherever they belonged. ”I can take the couch so you can sleep comfortably with your arm.”  
  
Vegard made some food for them. It wasn't much, some canned pineapple and the bread that had been left over when they had gone off to the cottage. Vegard would have to go to the store the following morning.  
  
Then both of them showered, Bård first. He locked himself inside the bathroom and enjoyed the cool stream for a fair amount of time. He had to step out of the shower when Vegard knocked on the door for the third time and threatened to come through if Bård didn't get out in two minutes. He smiled to himself and though it wouldn't be too bad if the bastard actually came in on him.  
  
The second Bård was out Vegard went in. Only a half-sour glance was shot at the younger brother as he passed him. Bård chuckled to himself. Then he pulled on clean underwear and a t-shirt to sleep in. It was almost half past nine and he felt more drained than in a long time. His nose was totally stuffed now, running all the time, and he coughed now and then. The damn head felt heavy and twice its size. He refused to check for a fever, he always thought he was better off not knowing. He popped two pills into his mouth from the small bottle and cursed silently after swallowing. They were almost out.  
  
He ventured into Vegard's bedroom and to the closet where he kept bedsheets and extra pillows. He had decided to sleep on the sofa despite Vegard's offering, his brother had been sleeping on the uncomfortable sofa at the cottage for many nights now so he certainly deserved to sleep in his own bed. As Bård crouched down to grab a pillow from the lowest shelf something caught his attention in the corner of his eye. He looked to his left at where Vegard had dumped his bags. Some of the content was halfly ripped out and spread on the floor, very un-Vegard-like, but from underneath them he spotted something covered in a christmassy wrapping paper. He stared at it for a moment, wondering if it indeed could be for him. As he listened he could still hear the water running in the bathroom, so he scurried over to the bags as quickly as his tired limbs let him. His long figers traced the colourful wrapping until they grabbed the package and held it up for his eyes to see. It was no bigger than a small book, actually it felt very much like a book. Bård frowned slightly, abnormal choice of Vegard to buy his brother a book. Then again he didn't know it was for him for sure. He flipped it in search for a name tag – they didn't use cards - and indeed there it was. It read ”Bård” with Vegard's 'bad-yet-not-as-bad-as-my-brother's' handwriting. Overwhelming curiosity tried to take over Bård, he could barely restrain his fingers. He hated not to be able to open something that was so easily at hand. Only the thin paper separated him from something Vegard thought suited him. He could have killed to know what it was. Well, almost.  
  
Suddenly the click of the bathroom lock sounded clear in Bård's ears and he jumped slightly, hastily putting down the gift and covering it halfly with dirty clothes. When had Vegard turned off the water? _I_ _must try to be more alert_ , Bård though. He hopped back to the closet and crouched down, finally taking the pillow he was out for in the first place, and tucked it under the cast across his chest where he could carry it and still have his other hand free. Then he stood up and met Vegard's form in the doorway. His towel hung loosely around his hips and his black curls had just been ruffled. Bård smiled at him.  
  
”I'm taking the couch,” he informed his brother and slipped past him, and his hand _accidentally_ brushed the bare stomach as he did so. Vegard flinched slightly at the touch and looked stupidly after his brother. _He didn't argue about the couch though_ , Bård smirked to himself.  
  
\- - -  
  
Bård made his bed on the sofa and sat down to still his heartbeats. God he must be really sick if even such a thing as making a bed got him out of breath. He glanced over at the door to the bedroom, he saw it was dark in the room. He couldn't see anything that was inside because of the angle, but he noted it was incredibly silent in the whole apartment. He wondered what Vegard was up to. He had been in there for a while now, alone and silent in a seemingly dark room. Bård blushed as a couple not-so-innocent scenarios came into his mind. He tried to will them away, but it was difficult with the – very dizzy and partially missing - memories from the cottage still in his mind. Oh how he wished he'd been more sober at the time.  
  
Just as curiosity was about to take the better of him, Vegard emerged from the bedroom, looking dark and beautiful in Bård's eyes as the shadows of his room spilled out around him. He had dressed in grey boxers and a white shirt, and his hands were clutching a package. More specifically the same package Bård had been enthralled by earlier. Vegard flushed lightly, a faint rosy fluster on his cheeks, as his eyes met Bård's.  
  
”This is for you,” he muttered and walked over to Bård hastily and handed over the gift. ”I meant to give it to you after Christmas but I never got around to it... So here you go.” Bård accepted the gift, having difficulties to take his eyes off Vegard's pink face. His fingers practically itched of anticipation as he grabbed the thing and turned it in his hands a couple times. He was just about to rip the wrapping off when he remembered his own gift to Vegard.  
  
”Oh!” He exclaimed and shot up from the couch, skipped over to his bag and dug up a small package from the depths of dirty clothes. He turned it in his hands as if weighing it, and then looked to his brother with a shy smile. ”Here,” he said.  
  
They sat in silence, both immersed in their gifts. Vegard opened his first and the sight of what he held in his hands made his eyes widen and his lips part in a silent 'oh my God'. Bård had purposely paused his opening to secretly observe his brother's face, and it was worth it. Vegard looked awestruck as he held up the small box and admired it.  
  
It was a clock. Silvery and gleaming. It was an investment even for someone with a bit more money. Bård knew Vegard liked his clocks fancy, and he knew how disappointed and sad Vegard had been when he had lost his former clock. It had been a similar one, but it had been a birthday gift from their parents when Vegard had turned twenty-five. It had been a great loss for him to lose it like that, and he would probably never forgive himself for it.  
  
”Wow,” Vegard breathed as he slipped the clock around his wrist. It fit perfectly and he admired it long, turning and twisting his hand to see it from every possible angle. Bård chuckled to himself, he found the nerdiness of the situation extremely adorable. ”I don't know what to say, Bård. It's just like the other one. It's perfect.”  
  
”What can I say?” Bård shrugged and smiled. ”I know your taste.” Vegard admired his arm for a moment longer, bright stars gleaming in his eyes. Bård was just as entranced by his brother's features as he was by his new clock.  
  
”Open yours,” he said then and looked to his brother with the gentlest love in his black eyes. Bård wasted no time and ripped off the wrapping, tossing it to the floor. The soft smile he'd had on his lips paled and he exhaled through his mouth that had fallen open. It wasn't a book, but a photo-album. On the cover was printed a picture of Bård and Vegard, behind their desk on set of I Kveld med Ylvis, both looking towards the camera with the widest grins on their faces. The text ”Memories from I Kveld med Ylvis” decorated the top of the cover. Bård felt his heart skip a beat as he flipped it open. There were a couple pictures from every episode of every season, the best moments of the show as well as some from behind the scenes. He flipped through pages of them grinning and laughing, of Calle doing his stupid faces and Magnus being the awkward thing he was, of guests and the camera team and even some of their manager Jørgen.  
  
”There's commentary on the back of every photo,” Vegard pointed out silently, leaning a bit towards Bård. The younger brother carefully took out a photo and flipped it, and, yes, there was commentary. There were a couple of sentences, one signed by Vegard, one by Calle and one by Magnus. The picture happened to be one of Bård smiling while his hair was awkwardly ruffled. He had probably just done the opening dance or something. The comments mostly pointed out how he looked like an over-grown five year old.  
  
He went through the whole album, several times, his heart beating furiously. He had thought of this kind of a thing many times, even mentioned it to his brother and possibly Calle now that he thought about it. He had wanted something like this for so long. The show meant so much to him, it was everything he had ever hoped to work with and exactly what he wanted to do. As a kid he'd wanted to be the best comedian in all of Norway. Now he understood the whole concept of being a comedian in the first place, and that the definition of ”best” was difficult to measure in a modern world, especially when it came to humour where people's opinions differed, but it was still the ultimate goal that pulsated inside him and gave him the strength he had to try and fulfill his dream. He put everything and anything he had into it and was proud of – nearly – every second that had been produced on TV.  
  
”Only half of-” he cleared his throat from a lump of slime. ”Only half of it is filled.”  
  
”Gotta leave room for the coming years, right?” Vegard smiled at his brother and Bård could almost feel tears burning his eyes inside his skull. He felt as if a truck had hit him and wiped him off the earth, but in a good way. Somehow it made him very emotional that Vegard had evidently put a lot of thought and effort into this. He wouldn't cry though, that would be over exaggerating. Carefully, almost as if he feared it would turn into smoke and disappear, he put down the album and got up, took two steps to where Vegard stood and put his arm on the shorter one's shoulder.  
  
”Thanks,” he whispered. ”You don't know what it means to me.”  
  
”I think I have an idea though,” Vegard whispered back and his eyes gleamed softly as they fixed on Bård's. He lifted one hand and put it gently on the back of Bård's head to guide it down to meet his. Their lips collided soundlessly and Bård squeezed his eyes shut, wanting the tender moment to live on forever. His hand fell down to rest on Vegard's chest where it gripped his shirt and tugged at it, bringing him closer and soundlessly begging him to never let go. Vegard broke the kiss to press his lips against his brother's cheek and Bård let out a shaky breath. He felt weak and breakable, though his heavy head seemed light now. Vegard's other hand was trailing up and down his back in a soothing motion, the older brother seemed to sense the fragile state Bård was in. Their lips met again to testify their united love. Bård whimpered softly and they broke the kiss, and Vegard pulled him close to his chest, only hugging him as tightly as he ever could. These moments were rare, when Bård was near crumbling, but they weren't unheard of. Vegard wasn't entirely sure which role he was playing now, the older brother-role or the... whatever else he was to Bård now.  
  
After a moment Vegard pulled away and looked up into his brother's blue eyes. ”I think we should go to sleep, it's been a long day for us both.” He patted his brother on the shoulder and Bård nodded a smile.  
  
Last preparations were made before they were going to bed. Bård recovered from his emotional state, soon back to his old cheeky self. He slumped down on the sofa under the covers he stole from Vegard's bed. He knew Vegard had an extra duvet in his closet but wanted to take the one from the bed because it had a familiar scent. He sniffed it silently until he remembered he couldn't smell anything for the damn stuffed nose. He grabbed the photo-album from the living room table and opened it, smiling at the pictures inside.  
  
”You really liked that one, huh?” Vegard's voice rang at him as he emerged from the bathroom. ”I think I've topped myself, you've never been this enthralled by anything I've given you.”  
  
”It's nice,” Bård answered, purposely avoiding giving his brother too big compliments. Vegard could absorb those like a sponge and have his ego inflated for weeks on an end. Vegard huffed a smile.  
  
”Good night then. Don't stay up too late,” he said as he disappeared into his bedroom and switched off the lights. Bård was too occupied by the photos to reply.  
  
Bård didn't know how long he spent flipping through the pages of the album, taking out each photo individually and reading the comments on the backside. He kind of regretted not getting anything more personal for Vegard now, though he knew his brother was absolutely happy to receive the new clock. He just wished he could give something equally meaningful to Vegard, he felt as if he owed him something. He rose to sit in the sofa and looked towards the doorway of the bedroom. Not a sound was to be heard in the apartment, except for his own rough breathing,haunting his lungs. Suddenly he felt a horrible longing in his chest. It felt like those nights when he'd been a child and the war outside in the dusty air had just kept on going for hours on an end, leaving him scared – no, not scared – leaving him _uncertain_ in his own bed.  
  
He had never actually been scared, not when they had been in Africa. When they had moved back to Norway – that was when the nightmares and the actual fear had kicked in. He guessed it was some inexplicable thing that had happened in his brain, maybe he had been too occupied with staying alive while in Africa that he hadn't had the time to be afraid. Those nights, when the guns had gone off outside like a thousand fireworks celebrating nothing but death and dread, he'd silently tiptoed over to his brother's bed and crept down with him. He shivered now as he remembered his own thoughts from long lost years.  
  
 _At least if they shoot at us now we_ _'ll both die_ _._  
  
That had been the real reason to why he so often had wanted to share the bed with his brother. What if soliers came in and only shot at one of their beds? He hadn't wanted to die alone nor had he wanted to be left alive alone. Chances were they'd both either died or lived if he wrapped up really near his brother, or at least he had hoped so.  
  
Only after they'd moved back to Norway had he realized how morbid his thoughts actually were, and only years later had he realized how morbid his thoughts actually had been for a boy his age.  
  
He knew he was safe now, one couldn't probably get much safer than in a country like Norway. Still the same thought haunted him like a curse in his bones. He wouldn't bear to lose his brother, and he wanted to be as near to him as possible during his unconscious hours, just to be sure Vegard wouldn't be taken away from him. He felt a bit silly, but he blamed it on some trauma he probably had from his childhood.  
  
He rose silently and walked over to the bedroom. Vegard laid facing the wall, leaving more than half of the bed empty, as was his custom. He often complained about the beds in hotels because they were rarely placed along a wall. It was a funny habit he had, sleeping as near as possible to the cold surface. It had remained since childhood. Perhaps he felt more safe like that, or perhaps he liked feeling his own breaths bounce back at him, Bård mused. He might've liked knowing he was alive.  
  
Bård crawled onto the bed, glad his brother seemed to be asleep. Though if he would've bothered to listen a bit more carefully he had perhaps noticed the slightly too fast and shallow pattern of Vegard's breath. The older brother was in fact pretending to sleep, not having grasped the endge of sleep yet, and the faintest smile ghosted his lips as he felt the bed shift underneath him as the other one climbed onto it and laid down, stilling at last.  
  
Vegard spent several hours more or less trying to get sleep. He was glad to just lie there, to listen to his brother's calm but loud breaths as he breathed through his mouth. Even then the snot in his throat rustled a bit, almost like an old engine. He shifted occasionally, his slender form bumping into Vegard's back. The older brother didn't mind. He smiled at the cold white wall in front of him until he fell into a soft dream about snowy hills and sparkling sunlight.


	15. One in a Million (part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long since the last chapter! I've worked my ass off with everything, and I made this chapter extra long to make up for the wait. I hope you like it!  
> (Sorry for eventual typos.)

A loud smack startled Vegard from his peaceful dream. Something heavy had just collided with his head and laid now across his sideways-turned head, squashing his ear uncomfortably. For a moment he froze, feverishly trying to figure out what the hell was going on with his flimsy brain. But as soon as the first familiar breaths, heavy and ragged, registered in his mind, he relaxed and exhaled to collect his slightly panicked thoughts.

He removed the arm from his face and turned around to lay his eyes on his brother's snoozing form. He felt slightly stupid for reacting like that, mildly freaking out and all. He should've remembered Bård was there. Because he definitely was.

Maybe more so than what Vegard would've wanted. He was sprawled out on his back on the wrinkled sheets, hands and feet pointing in every direction. The duvet he and Vegard had ended up sharing had been kicked down on the floor. Vegard also noticed Bård had gotten rid of his shirt at some point during the night. It was all in all pretty unusual of Bård to sleep like that. He usually wrapped up into a bundle and slept neatly on his stomach, though he always preferred being cold over being hot, just like with his showers.

But Vegard had a suspicion that this was about something else than feeling too hot sharing the bed with his brother. He'd seen Bård like this countless times before. Slowly, as if he was afraid to wake up Bård with the slightest movement, he extended a hand and felt Bård's forehead under his palm. It was damp and glistening with sweat and radiated intense heat. Vegard grimaced and pulled away his hand to wipe it on the sheets. He looked at Bård and scratched his own lips absent-mindedly, realizing he'd just shared the bed with someone who suffered a moderately high fever. Great.  
  
But he was not intending to become sick. No. Better just shrug the whole thought off. You were always better off not even thinking about falling ill , not even considering it. He could feel his odds rising, as he _decided_ not to become sick. It had to be manually programmed into the body, installed like new software on a computer. And that was done by deleting the whole option of falling victim for the bug at all. Which he had just done. He nodded in false satisfaction as he crawled off the bed, but all the while a suppressed voice in the back of his head whispered; _if only._  
  
If there was anything Vegard hated, it was being sick. He didn't really believe in tea and its health benefits , or raising the chances of not falling ill, but he brewed some anyway, just because. He readied a cup for Bård too, and added a lot of sugar as he knew his brat of a brother wouldn't down anything which wasn't at least thirty percent solid sugar in his current state. Bård always became – even more – sugar addicted when he had a cold.  
  
” Hey lazy,” Vegard purposely lacked empathy in his voice as he switched on the lights in the bedroom with his elbow, as both his hands were occupied with mugs of steaming tea. ”Get up. We need to check your temperature.”  
  
Bård rolled over on his side, sleepily trying to grab for the duvet that wasn't there. ”Don't wanna...” He huddled up in the far corner where Vegard had slept.  
  
” And I don't care,” Vegard said firmly and placed down the cups on the bedside table. Then he strolled off to get the fever thermometer. ”When I'm back you will be sitting up straight and drink your tea and we will check up on your fever.” Vegard smiled contently at his own determination. One had to be firm when dealing with Bård, almost like with a dog. He chuckled.  
  
After searching through cabins and drawers, only to remember he kept the thermometer in the top cupboard in his kitchen in the determined hope of having to use it as little as possible, Vegard entered the bedroom with the stick of glass in his hand. Bård sat upright, miraculously, and had pulled the thick covers from the floor and buried his now shivering form under them. He glared at Vegard from under heavy eyelids, partly because of exhaustion, partly because of Vegard's healthy being. His mouth hung open and he tried to sniffle to prevent snot from running down his nose, but only produced a muffled slurping kind of noise. Vegard scrunched his nose disapprovingly.  
  
”Ew, don't do that,” he said. ”Blow your nose if you need to, but don't pull in the snot if it's coming out. That doesn't help anything.”  
  
But of course the insufferable cranky bastard Bård was, he only sniffled more violently to annoy his brother, and did so until he felt the pressure build up in the front of his skull and swell too much. It all ended with him coughing with a rustling sound in his lungs, as if pieces of him were crumbling apart. He wouldn't have been surprised if that actually was the case.  
  
Vegard finally managed to get the thermometer under Bård's armpit, after a tenuous battle with the blonde one. Bård made it clear that he didn't _want, need_ or _have_ to know how sick he was. Vegard responded by wrestling him until he had him in his grip, and then tucked him in under the warm covers. Bård pouted sourly and sniffled.  
  
Vegard sat at the edge of the be d for a moment, his own cup of tea rested between his hands and spread an external warmth in him. It felt pretended somehow, like it didn't belong in his body. It was almost as if it was draining his body of energy rather than lending him some. He glanced at Bård whose eyes had closed again. How oddly tired he felt, he noticed as he watched Bård breathe . He wondered if he'd slept too little or too long, and he realized he hadn't the slightest idea of what time it was. Reaching for his new clock, he grunted as he saw the time. 5:40am.  
  
”Too little , definitely,” he muttered and swallowed a yawn. He had known it was morning, but had expected it to be significantly later.  
  
”Hmh?” Bård's sleepy grunt sounded through the duvet which he had decided to seek refuge under.  
  
”Nothing. Give me the thermometer now,” Vegard said and extended a hand, waiting for Bård's head or hand or anything to emerge and hand him the glass stick. Nothing happened. ”Bård,” he said with a dull voice, growing impatient and tired of the shit's tricks quickly. ”Give it to me or so God help me...” he threatened and grabbed the duvet, pulling it off his brother who w inced as the cooler air hit his hot skin. Vegard snatched the thermometer and looked at it. The red line had gingerly stopped at 39,2 degrees. _Dammit,_ Vegard thought , _I'll have to take him to the doctor if it rises much more._ He managed to hold an indifferent expression on his face. Bård was eyeing him. Vegard shook the glassy device and put it down, and Bård stirred slightly.  
  
”What did it say?” he rasped. _Curiosity killed the cat,_ Vegard mused to himself.  
  
”Thought you didn't want to know,” he answered nonchalantly and shrugged. ”Wasn't that bad anyway.”  
  
”Not _that bad?_ ” Bård squeaked and cleared his throat. ”Are you blind? I'm feeling like shit! How can I not have a high fever? That's bullshit, you're bullshitting me.” Bård seemed desperate to know, but Vegard only answered with a cheeky smirk. _As you make your bed, so you must lie_ _on it_ .  
  
An hour rolled by as Vegard hunted for anything edible in his nearly empty kitchen. He found three cans of tuna and a few straws of dusty spaghetti in the back of his drawer, and that was basically it. He offered Bård what little there was, but the younger man had trouble even with downing the tea. Vegard refused to let him take any painkillers if he wasn't going to eat, and Bård had thrown a weak tantrum at that. Needless to say, Vegard ate breakfast – if you could call it that – alone at the table.  
  
Bård was fast asleep when Vegard peered his head inside the dim room after a while. He decided to let the man lie and have a rest, he himself wasn't going back to sleep now.  
  
The clock was well past seven when a cheery tune started playing loudly, startling Vegard from his current activity. He was flipping through the pages of the gift he'd given Bård, smiling at the memories. But now he shot up and looked around wildly, desperate to locate the source of the sound before it woke Bård.  
  
He tracked the beeping sound to Bård's bags. By now he had figured out it was Bård's phone ringing. It was a familiar tune, an annoying one at that. He cursed lowly as he rummaged through the small pockets and internal parts of the bag, flipping clothing and generally making a mess. Finally he had the blinking and vibrating device in his hand, and the number was unknown.  
  
”Ylvisåker,” he answered in a hushed voice, glancing nervously at the door to the bedroom. The apartment was silent.  
  
”Hi, sir. It's Tommy Andersen, reporter from Aftenposten.” A fresh and energetic, yet oddly squeaky voice greeted him. Vegard resisted the sigh that was springing up his throat, and he wondered if he should just end the call right there. He wasn't obliged to answer to press people from his own phone , and neither was Bård, and quite frankly he wondered how this one had stumbled upon his phone number. Tommy spoke before he could react. ”I would just ask you a couple questions about your nose, if that's okay . We saw the article by Se og Hør and-”  
  
”Wait, what? My nose? ” Vegard was lost for a second before remembering this wasn't his phone but Bård's. ” Wait, umm, this is actually Vegard Ylvisåker. I'm Bård's brother.” He cursed silently as he said that, certain he sounded stupid. He was pretty sure the man knew they were brothers.  
  
”Oh, okay,” Tommy answered a bit confusedly. ”Well, is there any chance I can speak to your brother? Just a couple quick questions.”  
  
”No, I'm sorry,” Vegard answered curtly as he got up and paced over to the bathroom, wishing he hadn't woken Bård. ”What did you say about Se og Hør?”  
  
” You haven't seen the article? The writer saw you somewhere – I can't recall where right now – yesterday and noted you were on the road together and that your brother, sir, had some injury in his face and left arm, if I recall.” He paused to draw in a breath. ”Which brings me to that. Has there been an accident, by any chance?”  
  
”It's his right arm,” Vegard mumbled, feeling a bit agitated at the man. ”I'm sorry, I can't answer on behalf of him. You have to contact our manager if you need to know something.”  
  
”Alright, just...” the guy stumbled over his words and Vegard rolled his eyes as he lowered the lid on the toilet and sat down. The man was clearly young and inexperienced, always hoping to call nice and forward people who would spill out their darkest secrets so he could crack a juicy story . ”Are you at work?” he blurted out at last when nothing else seemed to spring to mind.  
  
” Listen,” Vegard licked his lips and sighed tiredly. ”I can't answer. I knew nothing about this article you're speaking of and I need to call my manager and sort things out,” Vegard scratched his forehead with his hand, wondering if that had been a wise thing to say. ”I'd advice you to call him instead of me or Bård.”  
  
”Right, and his name is..?”  
  
”I'm sorry, I'm sure you'll find that out,” Vegard said with as much pretense as he could without sounding way too rude. ”You managed to dig up Bård's number from God knows where, so I don't think Jørgen's name, his phone number nor his email will be too great a tas k for a champ like you.” When he finally fell silent he smiled contently to himself. He didn't usually act rude to people he didn't know, but today he had no tolerance for anything like this. The man on the other side said nothing, the awkward and heavy silence hummed on the phone line, stretching out the seconds. At last a sound was heard, and the phone beeped silently into Vegard's ear. Tommy had ended the call. Vegard looked at his phone and chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief.  
  
”Wh o was that ?” The weak voice of his brother sounded from the door to the bathroom. Vegard looked up slightly startled, and saw his brother leaning at the door frame, head tipped back against the white list and eyelids lowered tiredly. Vegard's eyes traveled swiftly down to his bare chest and back up to his face.  
  
”No-one. Some asshole,” he answered and got up with a sigh, flipping the phone in his hand.  
  
”Is that my phone?” Bård asked and wiped his running nose with the back of his hand. ”Did you answer my call?”  
  
”Yeah, it was some journalist or reporter or – move – or something.” Vegard squeezed his way past Bård through the narrow door, handing over the phone to its owner as he went. Bård walked after him, eyeing the phone in his hand as if it held some answers.  
  
”What did he want?” he asked and sniffled, making Vegard crinkle his nose at the disgusting sound. Bård walked over to his bags and opened the jar of painkillers, popping two into his mouth. Vegard was too tired to object, so he just threw himself down on the sofa with a deep sigh and drowned his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes and temples. He wasn't in a mood to talk about this with Bård, though he probably should.Ominous scenarios of headlines calling out on their sins flashed brightly in his head, like the warning lights of a broken car at the side of a nightly road. What if rumours were born among common folk? They had already been seen together on the road, and now Vegard answered Bård's phone, clearly indicating they were at least in the same place at seven in the morning. Damn, he should've said they were at work. Then again, it wouldn't probably be too difficult for a nosy reporter to figure out they didn't have any specific work at the moment. No, lying was never good.

It scared Vegard. His heart beat thunderously in his chest at the mere thought of what someone could write about this, about them. It took a lot less than rumours to destroy a career or a life, America could surely prove that. As if his life wasn't enough of a nightmare.  
  
He felt the couch shift underneath, and he felt Bård's presence close to him as the taller man sat down beside his brother. ”Talk to me, what did he say?” Bård sounded concerned. ”Was he obnoxious?”  
  
”No, it's okay. Just a bit annoying.” Vegard said hastily, trying to compose himself. He ignored the piercing blue eyes that scanned his profile. He drew in a breath and amassed the power to get up. ”I should go to the store.”  
  
But a hand on his shoulder turned his body into lead. He felt weighted down by the touch, as if he was looking up at an absurdly high roof inside a tremendous cave, physically feeling the masses of mountains pushing him down with an invisible force. It was all wrong. He felt ill.  
  
”Are you sure nothing's bothering you?” The words only faintly registered in Vegard's head. The world was spinning and he felt pushed up against a wall in a dark alley. There was no way out, and the barks of stray threatening dogs were getting closer. ”Vegard?”  
  
”No,” he whispered as a shiver went through him, clenching every muscle inside of him. He jolted up from the sofa and rushed to the toilet. Bård called after him as the lock clicked loudly to confirm he had shut out the bad. Except he hadn't. It was there with him. All of this was his fault, Bård had nothing to do with it. If Vegard hadn't walked in on Bård that night at the cottage everything would be okay now. Nobody would know anything, the press would have nothing bad to write about them, nothing to accuse them of.  
  
”Vegard!” Bård banged on the door. ”Vegard, open up! What's wrong?”  
  
Vegard sank down against a wall and covered his ears with his hands, hoping everything would just go away. However hard he pressed, he couldn't shut the voice out thoroughly. Bård's concerned shouts managed to penetrate the barrier. The sharpest flash blinded his closed eyes suddenly, and for a second he was taken back in time, back to a time that hadn't actually been, but could have. It was like a dull and lifeless and too slow picture, like the colours had faded with passing years, and in it a five year old Bård was dragged away by two faceless men, shouting and kicking, but Vegard's name drowned in the sounds of war all around him before it even left the boy's dusty lips. Vegard couldn't move.  
  
A sudden piercing bang jolted Vegard from his trance. He looked up, shaking and heaving his breaths. Bård stood at the door, looking at Vegard with a scared expression on his face. He clutched a knife in his left hand. He had picked the lock with it.  
  
”What's happening?” the tall man asked and rushed to his brother's side, placing the knife on the lowered toilet lid. ”Are you okay?” Vegard nodded though his face conveyed another message, and he reached out for his brother without knowing what he was doing. Bård sank down on his knees in front of his brother, and with his only free hand he closed Vegard into a tight embrace, and seconds ticked by.  
  
”Look at me,” Bård breathed into his neck but he clung tighter to him, refusing to pull back and let Bård see his face. ”Vegard, what happened? What did he say?”  
  
”There's an article,” Vegard whispered. Bård tried to part them again, this time succeeding. His blue eyes rested big on Vegard. ”Someone saw us when we were coming back from the cottage. Someone saw us together, Bård, and your injuries.” He paused to swallow and shook his head in frustration. ”And now I answered your call. He knows we're together right now.” It took a second for Bård to understand, and it was as if something changed in him. For a split second it the vast stretch of time, Vegard could swear he saw his own fear mirrored in Bård's eyes, spying back at him with dread.  
  
Then it was gone and Bård cracked a smile, rid of uncertainty and doubt, though he couldn't meet Vegard's eyes.  
  
”No, no, Vegard,” he laughed slightly, sounding sure and stable. ”You're just paranoid. They would never in a million years guess anything - ” he paused to search for words to use ” - _odd_ is going on, um, between us. Not without very strong evidence. It's such a far-fetched thing. We're safe.”  
  
”Are you sure?” Vegard asked. He needed further assurance. Bård nodded with a smile, and Vegard exhaled slightly shakily. Bård stood up and lent him a hand.  
  
”It's such an absurd thing, you know. No logic would ever lead them to such a conclusion,” Bård continued as they stood eyeing each other. ”It's all okay.”  
  
”I don't know, though,” Vegard said and chuckled unamusedly, looking down to his feet. ”It's against the law, Bård. It's wrong.”  
  
”Honestly,” Bård groaned in frustration and spun around, and walked out to the living room. Vegard followed, noting how Bård seemed a lot more energetic and less ill already. The pills worked magic. ”I don't understand it. What harm are we doing to anyone? I'm so sick of this!” He seemed angry for a second as he stood in the middle of the silent room. Then he turned around to face Vegard, and he seemed a lot calmer than seconds ago. A small spark gleamed in the depth of his eyes, like a previously hidden flame, now unveiled for Vegard to see. He stepped closer to his brother, only a small space of nothing separated them. ”Let me show you,” he said. ”Let me show you that not everything that's forbidden is wrong.”  
  
”Bård, no-” the dark haired man was interrupted by pursed lips against his own. He grunted in surprise as Bård kissed him clumsily, and he could practically feel the taller man smile against his own lips. It felt extremely awkward, their noses bumped into each other – and Bård ignored the stinging pain in his nose - as Vegard didn't understand to tilt his head for the shock he was in. But it also felt _almost_ innocent, as if the goofiness of it reduced the apparent wrongness. As absurd as it was, it eased Vegard to the point of relaxation, and soon he closed his eyes to thoroughly enjoy the feeling. Bård was humming against his lips as he kissed him.  
  
When they broke apart their eyes found each other, and their flushed smiles were reflections of the other one's. ”I hate you,” Vegard whispered and Bård shrugged and grinned lopsidedly.  
  
”I'm sorry,” he said cheekily. ”I bet you're just jealous though.”  
  
”Jealous?” Vegard shook his head while laughter filled his lungs. He felt the nervousness and fear from moments ago already subsiding like clouds in front of the autumn sun after rain. ”What would I possibly be jealous of?”  
  
”My glorious life, of course!” Bård did a big gesture with his hand and Vegard rolled his eyes.  
  
”You can't even have an own TV show without me, Bård. Admit it, you're dependent of me, even amidst all your _glory_ ,” he did a mocking imitation of Bård's gesture and the blond man laughed.  
  
”Well,” he said and dipped his head to place a hasty kiss on his brother's lips, lingering for a second. When he spoke his voice had lowered into a seductive purring. ”You can't have a birthday party without a cake, can you? You're the Turkish cake to my snobbish party.”  
  
Vegard cracked totally. He laughed until his muscles ached and Bård had to grab him to hold him upright. He suddenly felt lighter than ever, as if all his worries were elevated from his crumbling shoulders. It wasn't even Bård's idiot joke he laughed at. No, it was his own stupidity. Thinking back at how he had reacted after the phone call, he couldn't keep the tears from his eyes as he doubled over in laughter. How had he ever thought anyone would jump to conclusions because he and Bård spent time in the same place? He was such an idiot. Nobody would think that of two brothers, not without a picture of them kissing or something. And some not even then! Only God knew what you could do on computers these days if you had a bit of talent. Actually, Vegard knew too; nearly anything.  
  
”Are you okay?” Bård chuckled when Vegard seemed to calm down a bit.

”Yeah,” Vegard straightened to his full form and wiped a tear from his eye. ”I swear to God, Bård, you're going to be the death of me one day.”  
  
”Probably as I'll definitely outlive you,” Bård said, nodding. ”Then I'll stand at your grave and mock you.”  
  
”Pssh, as if I'd even want to live that long. This world will probably be such an awful place when we're old, that _I'll_ be mocking _you_ on my deathbed.” He eyed his brother for a while, admiring the grin on his face. Then a mischievous thought crept into the back of his head and consumed him, betraying his thought in the form of a smirk on his lips. Bård's eyebrows shot up questioningly.  
  
Fast as a lightning, Vegard's hand shot up to the back of Bård's head and grabbed a fistful of his smooth hair. The other one went rig id and a nearly soundless gasp of surprise escaped him before he relaxed.  
  
”Ten things you can do,” Vegard stated and hoisted his other hand, threatening with a slap to the face if Bård was too slow or said something wrong.  
  
”Shit, uh, ten things you ca – ow! Uh, you can bake, you can sing and run and, um, you can, well, you can shit, as I already said.” They both laughed and Vegard slapped him lazily. ”What else can you do... oh! I know what you can do!”  
  
”Yeah? What?” Vegard grinned at him and Bård wiggled his eyebrows. His voice was low and husky as he spoke.

”You can do me.”  
  
Vegard would have laughed if not for the fact that Bård was forcing himself onto his brother, despite the hand pulling at his hair. Hot lips found Vegard's again and a heated kiss was exchanged, sending jolts and sparks through his body. Second by second their movements slowed down, until they barely felt each other on their soft lips. Bård parted them and studied Vegard's eyes for a second before grabbing him by the arm and quietly leading him away to the bedroom.

He crept atop the messy bed and laid down, looking shyly at Vegard. The older brother swallowed and climbed onto the bed, laying down beside Bård. They both breathed quietly, looking up to the ceiling as if they could see a million mysteries twinkling there in the form of stars. Vegard wondered what went through Bård's head then and there. He wanted nothing more than to ask, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead he spied the ceiling for answers that weren't there. The bed shifted under him, and he could feel blue eyes resting on his profile as Bård had turned on his side. He felt the studying gaze dance on his features, softly tracing every curve, carving out his features into the air. Bård shuffled closer until only inches parted them.  
  
”Vegard,” he whispered, but the sound was so quiet the breath didn't even reach Vegard's face. The older brother slowly let his face fall to the side, his eyes found his brother's face. Bård's lips barely moved, he barely seemed to even breathe, and he looked young and vulnerable. Almost like glass. ”Please touch me.”

Vegard's face didn't change, nothing changed and they seemed caught up in time, trapped in some odd void. Vegard blinked a couple of times, studying his brother's face while only his irises danced around scanning their view. Then he breathed in silently, dragging in the scent of his brother. One of his hands moved up to Bård's face, and the younger man closed his eyes as a thumb traced across his cheek.Shudders and shivers washed down Bård's spine like waves in an ocean. He felt tired again, and suddenly he remembered how sick he was feeling. He sighed with contentment, and Vegard's fingers, roughened by various instruments' strings, lulled him perilously close to an undefined edge.  
  
It wasn't long before Vegard knew Bård had fallen asleep. His breathing whined slightly, much alike the wind in the nooks of an old house, only fainter. Vegard glanced quickly at his watch, 8:30am, and decided it wasn't too late to go back to sleep. He would call Jørgen as soon as he woke up.

\- - -

When he woke up, it wasn't to the usual sight. There was no wall in front of him, no whiteness to reflect empty thoughts back at him. Instead he had shuffled closer to Bård, who had turned his back to him. The other body radiated heat, and Vegard wondered if Bård's temperature had gone even higher.

Minutes passed without Vegard moving much. He checked the time. He'd slept two hours. Bård's heaving sides and whistling breath measured time in a unit unknown to Vegard, but still he lay there and observed. His fingers sneaked slowly up the back of his brother, brushing over the slightly heaving rib cage, tracing the small deformations on his smooth skin. He moved even closer to wrap his arm around Bård, careful not to wake him, and he placed a kiss to his brother's neck.  
  
Pressed up against his brother, he thought of how drastically his life had change d under such a short period of time. His definition of life and love had changed, and his future plans and dreams had withered and been replaced by something entirely else, by something that should never be. It tore his heart to shreds just as much as it breathed new life into him, and he couldn't make up his mind. Was this right or was this wrong? He didn't necessarily want to know.  
  
”Vegard,” a raspy voice whispered suddenly and Bård's form stirred.  
  
”Hm? Are you awake?” Vegard answered pushing his face into his brother's neck. Bård made a noise to confirm. ”Did you sleep good?”  
  
” Bit restless,” he murmured. ”I feel like shit.” It was silent, Vegard closed his eyes again and breathed in his brother's warmth. Bård's hair tickled his face as he rested with his face in the other one's neck. ”Make me feel better,” Bård said suddenly, silently and innocently . Vegard didn't understand and they lay still for a couple of seconds. Then Bård moved, or his good hand moved, and it found Vegard's hand hanging down from his side and over his stomach. Their fingers intertwined, and Bård's were incredibly warm on Vegard's. They held each other's hands for some time, just feeling the skin of their brother under their fingers. Then Bård twisted his neck, almost enough to see Vegard's face from the corner of his eyes .  
  
”Make me feel better, I said.”  
  
”Am I not?” Vegard asked and Bård hummed, smiling slightly.  
  
”Not in the right way.” And suddenly Vegard's hand was gliding down over Bård's bare stomach, guided by Bård's own hand atop of his. Vegard's breath stopped for a second, and his body went rigid, but he didn't resist as his hand was guided over the edge of Bård's briefs. The younger man squirmed slightly, pressing his back more firmly against his brother's chest. A shuddering sigh left Bård as Vegard's fingers brushed over his soft cock, barely even touching. Heat was enclosing Vegard's hand from both above and under, as Bård applied pressure and pushed down, simultaneously moving his hips just a little forward. Bård's palm lay flat against Bård's cock, and the younger man squirmed involuntarily, hoping for his brother to do something, but Vegard couldn't bring himself to move. As much as he wanted this, as much as he wished with all his heart for this to happen, it scared him and made him nauseous all the same. He wanted no part in this, yet he wished he had every part of it, every part of Bård under his fingertips.  
  
”We shouldn't be doing this,” he whispered into the back of Bård's neck as the younger brother moved his hand only slightly with his own, drawing out a tiny circle, rubbing him self into arousal. ”This shouldn't happen, Bård. This isn't right, this isn't what brother's do.” The tiny moan that was released from Bård's lungs made it difficult for Vegard to keep his brain on track, and he wondered if he should just drop it and do what his brother seemed to crave with such intensity, despite knowing it wasn't necessarily what he himself wanted. Maybe he should try to make Bård happy, maybe he should whisper something in his ear and make him moan more for him. B ut he shouldn't be lying about this kind of a thing, not to himself and not to Bård . _Because l_ _ying_ _is_ _never good_ . ” We really shouldn't. Oh God, Bård, I just wish this ...”  
  
But as he took the breath to exhale his thoughts , the words rolled over his tongue, gushed up his throat like a tasteless poison. It paralyzed him, shut him down and he couldn't utter a word . Bård's hand was gone from his, and the movement stilled.  
  
Then Bård turned around on the bed, now facing his brother's half dazed gaze. He was flushed, his lips parted eyes wild yet dull from the sickness that ran through his veins. ”What do you wish for, Vegard?” He whispered against Vegard's lips, but got no answer. ”They won't find out about this. They won't. We're okay.” Bård's hand was suddenly on his hip, making small circles, ever closing in on his cock. Blue eyes were fastened on Vegard as he swallowed and let out a breath. Bård's hand slipped inside Vegard's underwear, and the younger man leaned to Vegard to plant a sloppy kiss on his mouth right as a long fingers closed around his dick. He wasn't near to entirely aroused, but at least something had stirred inside him earlier. Now Bård was stroking him with confident pulls, and a thousand thoughts and feelings cascaded him all at once. Most of all he wondered how sure Bård seemed to be, like all of this was completely okay. Vegard felt like he had to take on double the responsibility.  
  
”Am I good?” Bård asked as he kissed his brother again. Vegard only nodded as he swallowed a grunt. ”Good, 'cause I've never done this to another guy.” Vegard could see Bård blush and squirm a little. He looked like a boy under Vegard's dark gaze, like a young boy experimenting with something forbidden. For some reason Bård's uncertainty turned him on more than it probably should have. Soon he felt involuntary sounds rising from their nest in the depth of his own throat, and he had difficulties keeping them in. Bård seemed to notice, as he glanced quickly at his brother's face and then gave him one long and stretched pull, twisting over the tip of his cock before sliding down again. Vegard let out a deep groan which went straight into Bård and made him shiver.

Suddenly Vegard's hands were on Bård's hips, caressing and tracing his lines. It wasn't long before Bård was out of his boxers, and Vegard eyed him up and down. He was evidently hard.  
  
”Please,” Bård whined as Vegard pushed a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips. Bård bit his lip and arched his back as Vegard closed his hand around him and started pumping at him with an already fast pace. He felt filthy and unworthy as he did so, but the sight before him, combined with Bård's now shaky hand around his own cock, slung him into some mode that made him forget, or alternatively not care. He needed this, he needed Bård's sweet wails.  
  
Bård was squirming around on his side and mumbling and moaning incoherently now, bucking into Vegard's hand as he searched for release. The air in the room was filled with groans and the smell of sweat and sex, and Vegard was emitting sounds of pleasure too. He was unable to keep back as Bård moaned into his face, eyebrows knitting together as he was close to the edge.  
  
”Vegard,” he panted and blue eyes flared to him, but they were unfocused, glassy, as if he saw something beyond Vegard. ”Oh God, fuck me.”  
  
The by far dirtiest thought he'd had while sober and coherent, popped into Vegard's head. His hand left his brother's dick, and Bård whined needily at the loss of touch. Then Vegard put his lips to Bård's, right as the hand traveled to Bård's backside, and between his cheeks.  
  
”Shh,” he hissed against his brother's lips, but Bård made a high- pitched moan as Vegard's finger brushed over his hole. He clenched under Vegard's touch, and to the older brother's surprise a white fluid was released simultaneously as Bård quieted down a bit and feverishly mumbled something he couldn't make out. He noticed Bård's hand wasn't around his own cock anymore, but rather clutched his side with a force that would surely leave marks.  
  
Soon everything stilled, except for their heaving chests and their eyes that hungrily danced on each other's f lushed skin.  
  
”You interrupted me,” Bård breathed when he finally caught up with his racing heart. ”It's like you don't want to be in the spotlight.”  
  
” You're the star of the show, aren't you. You always are. ” Vegard grinned cheekily.  
  
”You'll be the rocket pilot steering up to my level then, hm?”  
  
With that Bård launched himself on top of Vegard and bumped his lips clumsily against his brother's. They kissed, chuckling against each other for what seemed like an eternity. It was when Bård finally parted them to lift his head a bit to look down with his wonderfully enticing eyes that Vegard stopped to think, his mind drowning somewhere deep inside his brother's gaze . He felt warm, aroused too, but it wasn't anything he necessarily needed to attend to. For the moment being he only wanted to lay like that for an eternity, explore the vastness of the sky that was his brother's eyes.  
  
He noticed slowly how whole he felt. As if the puzzle he'd worked on his whole life was ready now. It made him oddly hollow too, to know this was the meaning of it all. He couldn't really put a name on what it was that he missed now, but it was as if a part of himself had vanished into this air. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing though. This was where he belonged, he didn't need anything else. 

”You truly are one in a million.” Vegard breathed silently, awe in his widened eyes. Bård only smiled, afraid a worded reply would be rude by default. He couldn't help the urge to mock his brother each time he said something nice. But now he dipped down his head and kissed his brother slowly, tasting him on his own lips. He straddled Vegard, lightly resting his own weight on top of the smaller man. He could feel Vegard's clothed erection against the back of his bare bum, and his head boiled with need as he thought of how close they were and how little divided them. He wondered if he could persuade Vegard to thoroughly make love to him. Maybe one day.  
  
Lightly he moved on top of Vegard, rubbing down at him, creating a heated friction. Vegard watched him intently first, and his hands found their way to Bård's hips where they rested, but as soon as his arousal swelled and Bård started moving faster, his head dropped back on the sheets and his back arched in pleasure. He moaned and grunted, and his fingers dug into Bård's flesh where it was soft. Bård reached down behind himself with his hand, under Vegard's briefs, and he pumped his brother through a controlled and slow, yet entirely too good orgasm.  
  
As Vegard had caught his breath enough to tear his eyes from the roof and look at his brother, Bård wiped off the mess on his hand onto Vegard's shirt with a grimace. Vegard huffed a laughter as Bård crawled off him and walked out the room. He watched after his brother, eyes resting on the tiny butt before he was gone.  
  
He felt content. Awful and disgusting, sure. But those were only minor factors in this tumult of everything. And in the midst of all his raging emotions there was a hole. A hole that had been blown through him like a train going through a thin brick wall. Suddenly he understood what it was. He was free of what had plagued him for years, for as long as he could remember. He leaned back and listened to the emptiness in his head. Only his own heartbeats echoed inside him, and the sound of the water tap from the bathroom was heard through the wall like a muffled hissing.  
  
The gunfire was gone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to everyone who bothers to read my story! I love you all so much for the wonderful comments and the support I get!


	16. Lying is never good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So horribly horribly sorry it's taken so long! I haven't forgotten, I've just been really busy and a bit stuck.
> 
> Warning: mentions of self-harm (no actual actions).
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Edit: I'm also sorry for the way the text is sometimes. I don't know why it gets like that, but when I copy and paste the text in here it does some stupid things like adding spaces where it shouldn't and taking away words and turning italicized words back to normal. I try to fix it but sometimes it slips past me, so please bear with me!

Bård pulled up the tap in the bathroom, releasing the water that welled from its invisible source. How come it was always there, always an endless supply of a cool stream, when nothing else in this world seemed to be reliable? Even such a conservative thing as his own inability to find affection towards another human being had sidetracked horribly.

Maybe he should dream of another reality? Of one that had been the one and only he had ever thought of, ever thought possible. He felt as if he couldn't quite process how much he actually cared for – loved? - his brother. It was a sickening amount, too much to be allowed in this world, certainly. He knew the unspeakable had happened, and he knew it should be reduced to a mere illusion. But that wasn't possible anymore.  
  
It was odd how these moments of regret came to him like swift stabs from a stranger. Like a lightning bolt aimed to cripple his questionable morality. One moment he didn't feel anything, didn't regret what was going on. Then, _bam,_ and he felt like the most abhorrent being in the world. Like a beast hiding from the beautiful sunlight, afraid to be blinded by reality.  
  
Cold shivers crept up his back with hooked claws and raised every hair in their way as he washed his hand under the sobering cold water. He felt like a cat, threatened and chased into a corner. He should retreat, wave the white flag and undo the possible damage that would crash upon the two of them the instant something went wrong. Even more wrong.  
  
But he couldn't, could he? Wouldn't that be even worse? To first trick his own brother into this, to twist his older brother to fit into his own form, his own purpose, and then just break it, burn the only copy of a contract and claim it never happened and that the other one was delusional. No, the reverse didn't work and he had no idea where the brake was. It was slowly spiralling into a void of catastrophy. The force was coming in for a kill, aiming to desert his sanity. _I can't stop this._ _I'm sorry._  
  
He splashed cold water from the tap into his face with his only working hand. He gasped at the coolness, mouth hanging open as the droplets ran over his burning skin. He wondered how high his fever had climbed now, and whether it would crash down like a boy from an age-old ladder when his body couldn't take it anymore. He met his own eyes in the mirror above the sink. They were wide and looking at him with uncertainty and doubt. He felt as if something foreign was trapped inside, too scared to come out. He blinked and averted his gaze from his own, and he noticed the knife still on the lid of the toilet. He furrowed his brow as he stared at it, and it glared back at him with equal persistence. He sniffled at last, pulling snot back in as if some vital part of him was escaping. He reached for the metal object and turned it in his hand. There was a tingling numbness in his fingers again.

\- - -

Vegard stared at the ceiling for minutes. A tiny smile had made it's nest on his lips without him noticing, and his eyes were wide as awe and surprise morphed into a swelling feeling of something undefined – happiness? He wasn't sure, but he knew it was something complex, something he needed a specific key to get access to. That key was Bård.

He got up and changed into clean clothes. He would have to go to the store and get them something to eat. The next to nonexistent breakfast was already deceiving him, and he could only imagine what a hunger Bård was experiencing as he hadn't eaten earlier. Vegard would have to sit him down and make him eat as soon as he came back home with something that Bård would actually agree to eat.

He ventured into the living room, willing away the smile that had constantly plagued his lips ever since Bård left his bed a couple minutes ago. Now he had to drive some sensibility into his head again. He still had the call to Jørgen to deal with, and he could not afford to say one single word wrong as a result to any mental instability.

He stretched his stiff body, muffled pops coming from his spine. He scanned the room for his brother, but the apartment was silent. He concluded Bård was in the bathroom still, as the door was only slightly open and the lamp was on inside.

His attention was caught by Bård's phone where it had been left on the sofa earlier. It glowed dimply, indicating someone had called him or left him a message. How come they hadn't heard it? Vegard blushed and looked down as he remembered their latest common activity. _That's why_. He went over to the phone. His brows furrowed as Jørgen's name glared at him from the screen. Bård had got one call and one message. It must be urgent. The reporter guy must've called him, or he must've seen the article.

The hair on his back and arms rose like a flock of people in an uproar. Cold sweat broke through his skin as a sickly thought raced in his head. With a shaking finger he opened the message, and he thought he was going to pass out as his eyes danced over the words in black.  
  
 _Is this some kind of joke? Answer me, Bård!_  
  
”Shit,” he gasped. He felt the blood drain from his face as he read it over and over again. He knew. Their manager knew about the thing that was going on between them. The reporter from earlier had told him, or it had read in the article. Vegard ran a hand through his hair and swallowed as his world spun and the blood roared in his ears. He tossed away the phone as if it was burning his hand, and he spun around to locate his own phone. He saw how it blinked ominously as he went to it and picked it up. ' Jørgen ' it said. Two calls and a message. It had been on soundless.  
  
 _What the fuck is this article about?_ _Bård_ _won't answer his phone._ _This is a serious fucking issue._ _Call me._

Vegard felt like he needed to throw up and possibly die too. He was almost entirely sure he could feel his brain shutting itself down, part by part until at last his sight would blacken.  
  
”Bård,” he whispered while clutching the phone. ”Bård!”  
  
It wasn't long before the presence of someone beside him registered in Vegard's senses and he jumped slightly. Bård was standing beside him with a worried yet oddly distant look on his face, though Vegard was too horrified to notice.  
  
”He knows,” he whispered with dread in his voice. ”He knows, Bård. Jørgen knows.”  
  
”Knows what?” Bård asked, clearly not understanding.  
  
”About us,” Vegard looked at the phone again, his mind faltering and sending him into despair. ”It's over. They know.”  
  
”What are you talking about?” Bård seemed to suddenly snap out of some trance, and he snatched the phone from Vegard's fingers which were stiffened by horror. Bård read the message. His eyes flew over the words once, twice. Then he sighed. ”Oh fuck, the article. Did it say anything about my injuries? It was about my injuries, wasn't it?”

Vegard felt a bit lost, irritated even, by how unaffected Bård seemed. How did Bård's injuries affect this in any way? ”Yeah, I guess,” he said, still fright and desperation in his voice.  
  
”Fuck,” Bård mouthed, eyeing the message over again. ”I might have kind of -” he paused to take a deep breath, and Vegard grew even more impatient and desperate ”- forgot to tell him about the accident.”

Vegard blinked stupidly at Bård, taking a few seconds to register and process his words. He understood suddenly that this wasn't about the two of them beeing figured out, but rather about the publicity of Bård's injuries, and the lack of information about it among the people. While Vegard knew there hadn't been any leakage about this to the press, he had though Bård had told Jørgen. With once the dread was forgotten and replaced by anger and shock.  
  
”You _what_ ?” he blurted out then, and Bård swallowed without looking him in the eyes.  
  
”I forgot. I meant to tell him but I just forgot.”  
  
”Do you understand how big problems this may cause us?” Vegard's voice was dangerously loud now, spewing out both anger and fear on his brother. ”Do you? I don't think you do, Bård. I don't think a scandal article is the way TVNorge wants to find out about this!”  
  
”I'm sorry!” Bård called desperately, but Vegard had spun around and was walking into the kitchen with nervous steps, trying to dig up Jørgen's number from his phone with shaking fingers. ”I forgot!”  
  
”What's with you these days anyway?” Vegard groaned in frustration at the phone in his hands, turning around and coming out of the kitchen again, only to stop and glar e at Bård. ”You should tell your doctor about your fucking memory when you meet him again. All you do is sleep and forget things. Maybe you had a worse case of concussion which is acting up now... ” He trailed off as the phone started beeping and he lifted it to his ear to await Jørgen's voice.  
  
Bård stood and watched his brother while he paced back and forth in the limited space between the kitchen and the living room. A new kind of fear took root inside him as he thought of what Vegard just had said. He hadn't noticed his memory would've gotten any worse, or that he'd sleep more than normally, but if Vegard made a remark on those thing then surely there had to be something in it, right? Vegard was angry and frustrated and stressed, yes, but he didn't spew out unnecessary things.What if Bård had had a worse concussion than what the doctors had diagnosed him with? His eyes dropped down to his hand which still held the knife. He'd almost forgotten he still clutched onto that. The numbness had consumed his whole hand and was travelling up his forearm like a spreading poison.

”Hi, it's Vegard,” the older Ylvisåker answered the phone. Bård could hear Jørgen's voice strong and threatening even over to where he stood.  
  
”What the fuck is going on, Vegard? Is this a joke? He's been in an accident ?”  
  
”Yeah, yeah he has. He crashed his car. I'm sorry,” Vegard dragged a hand across his face and then up in his hair, pulling back obsidian serpents from his face. ”A couple days before Christmas.”  
  
”A couple days before – oh my God!” Jørgen laughed but there was nothing but anger in his tones. Vegard cast a murdering glance at Bård. ”And you didn't think of informing me at all? I need to know about things like these! It's always this with you two... Communication, Vegard! I can't read minds! ”  
  
”I know, I know. I'm sorry. Bård was going to tell you but he forgot and I thought you already knew and, Christ, this is such a bloody mess.”  
  
”You can bet your fucking head this is a mess.” The man's voice was still angry, but he seemed to be calming down slowly. ”We'll just have to pray that the people of TVNorge haven't seen the article. You do understand that I have to tell important people, like TVNorge, about things like these? Particularly if we are strongly involved with something like, say, renewing a contract. You do know that?”

”Of course I do,” Vegard mumbled.  
  
”Of course you do,” Jørgen repeated. ”Yet nobody told me. You two really aren't making my job any easier.” Jørgen paused to heave a heavy sigh. Vegard could picture him in his head, standing at his office with the phone at his ear, all stressed out and red in the face. He knew Jørgen wasn't at his office right now, but that was how he imagined him.  
  
”You know,” the man on the other end of the invisible line continued. ”TVNorge are very forgiving people. I'm sure they'll understand. But either way this will be very embarrassing, especially if they've read the article.”  
  
”Tell them we are terribly sorry,” Vegard said but was cut short by an unamused and tired laugh.  
  
”Oh Vegard, I'll have to do a lot more than tell them we're sorry. I'll have to kiss their asses in hopes of making sure you two get your jobs. That's what I'll be doing.” There was a tiny awkward moment of silence before Jørgen drew in a breath and continued. ”Does he at least look half decent?”  
  
”Bård?” Vegard asked surprisedly, casting a quick glance Bård's way. He hoped the younger one couldn't hear their manager's words, as he knew how sensitive Bård was about his appearance right now. By the look of it Bård could hear though, and had heard. He looked like he'd been beaten in the face. ”Yeah, yeah he looks great.” Vegard was quick to say, but only then realized he couldn't give an answer that would be satisfactory to both the parts he was trying to impress. ”I mean, he'll get rid of the stitches in his face tomorrow, I guess.” He lifted an eyebrow Bård's way to get affirmation, but Bård only stared into thin air. ”It's nothing too bad, it's gonna look okay. There's nothing a bit of makeup can't fix, to be honest.” Vegard was startled by a loud bang only seconds later. He looked Bård's way again but found him to be gone. The door to the toilet was closed again, and it must have been what caused the sound. He wondered what had gone wrong now, until he suddenly realized Jørgen had asked him a question.  
  
”I'm sorry, what did you say?” He asked, determined to only focus on one thing now.  
  
”I asked how he's feeling. There hasn't been anything after the crash?” Jørgen seemed to have softened now. He wasn't a man to be angry for too long, and Vegard thanked fate for that every day. God knows how long someone easily angered or irritated would last with the two Ylvisåker brothers.  
  
”He's fine,” Vegard replied with a sigh. ”Just a bit nervous about the contract.”  
  
”We all are with these new turns of events,” Jørgen muttered. ”Very well, I'll try to ensure you your contracts. I'll do my best. Oh, and Vegard,” the man said before hanging up.  
  
”Yeah?”  
  
”Do try to contact your brother and have a talk with him. I'm a bit too busy to chase him with unanswered phonecalls.”  
  
Vegard was about to ask what he meant with that - Bård was right here with him, right? – when he shut his mouth in realization. Jørgen didn't know, nobody knew they were together. He felt as if a pressure was released from his chest, like the air from a tyre that was about to burst.  
  
”Vegard?”  
  
”Yeah,” he quickened again, shaking his head to gather his thoughts. ”I will. Right away.”  
  
”Good. Take care.”  
  
”You too,” Vegard mumbled. ”And I'm sorry.”  
  
But the call had already ended, and the device was beeping it's broken morse into his ear. He sighed tiredly. They'd really messed things up, hadn't they? He decided he'd have to talk a bit with Bård.

He put the phone into his pocket and made his way over to the bathroom. He knocked gently and called Bård's name, but the other one told him to go away. Vegard could do nothing but stare at the door and wonder what to do next. He didn't know _exactly_ why Bård was upset now, but he guessed it had to do with his face. He knew for a fact Jørgen wouldn't have spoken the way he did if he'd known Bård was there and able to hear it. Most of their team knew what looks meant to Bård.  
  
With a sigh Vegard looked down, and his eyes came to rest on the lock of the door. It was oddly screwed off its place and looked wonky, kind of like someone had – _oh right_. He vaguely remembered now, how Bård had stood in the door clutching a knife in his clumsy left hand, almost like a knight with a sword.

”Can I at least have the knife back? Can't trust you with it in that state,” Vegard knew it was a weak - and probably inappropriate - joke, self-harm wasn't a topic to make jokes out of, but he had to try.

It was silent for a moment. Vegard tried to listen for any signs of his brother reacting on the other side of the wooden barrier. A rustle of clothes, an annoyed groan, anything. He received nothing.  
  
The seconds beat in unison with his heart for a second, each strike of the invisible drum marking a passed moment in his limited life. The connection was cut, he couldn't take up any signal from Bård, physical or mental. The seconds seemed to slow down while his heartbeats increased until he was living with double the speed he should. He called Bård's name again and it vanished in an aching silence.

He grabbed the handle of the door with rushed force. It creaked as it wasn't fastened in the right way anymore, but as he pulled it down it appeared to be locked.  
  
”Bård, I know you're there. Open the fuck up!” He listened but again the silence screamed back flat in his face. He tried the handle again, pulling it up and down repeatedly in a desperate attempt to open the door or draw a reaction from his brother on the other side. He grew more and more anxious and scared. With their lives looking like they did now, all wrong and tangled and messed up on a million previously unknown levels, only the fates knew what an unpredictable guy like Bård would find himself doing. It wasn't that Vegard thought his brother would do anything to inflict harm on himself, he'd never done that as far as Vegard was concerned, but you never knew. Bård had seemed slightly off since the accident anyway.

”Open the door, Bård!” he tried again, pulling at the handle now. ”I will come through if you don't let me in!”

As he pulled and pushed at the handle, desperately trying to get somewhere with it, he was too busy shouting at Bård to get out to notice the broken click from the lock. Suddenly he was launched backwards, almost as if invisible hands were dragging him down towards the floor where he landed on his back to stare stupidly at the ceiling. In hindsight he would probably reason that those hands were most likely gravity cooperating with the mass of his body.

When he regained his thoughts from the impact, and looked away from the ceiling and back to the door, he could see the handle and the lock were missing. In fact he found them both in his very own hand only seconds later.

”What the fuck are you doing?” Bård pushed the door open from the inside. An expression best described as a mix between anger, confusion, annoyance, amusement and judgement hung heavily on his features, showing off his thoughts like a painting of concrete objects.

”I'm -” Vegard stuttered.

”Can't you leave me alone for one second? What the hell is wrong with you?” Bård sounded genuinely upset, yet he came forth and stuck out a hand to help his brother up.

”I'm sorry, I don't know what got to me,” Vegard murmured as he came to his feet. His eyes instinctively glanced at Bård's wrist, which was unharmed, of course. Then he almost laughed at his own stupidity. _Of course it is, he only has one functioning hand._ He wanted to slap himself in the face.

”Are you done freaking out now?” Bård asked, irritation framing his blue eyes. Vegard nodded and smiled shyly without knowing why – probably from realief - to which Bård only replied with a roll of his eyes and a loud huff. He walked off and slumped down on the couch.

Vegard found the knife on the side of the sink. Odd how it seemed to find it's way back to the bathroom repeatedly.The blank blade returned his own gaze as he fit the handle in his hand. He could feel an odd dizziness clouding his mind, the aftermath of whatever shock he'd had moments ago, as he ran a thumb over the smooth side of the blade. The finger glided over the cool metal and across the reflection of his own brown eyes.It amazed him how something so perfect could bear to give back something so flawed and awful as his reflection. He guessed that was what life was all about. The beautiful and flawless would never break before the impure.

\- - -

The day was agonizingly slow. It crept into the apartment through invisible wounds on the walls, and settled around Vegard, never letting him out of it's reach. The worst thing was that he felt so horribly alone and nervous all the time. He wiped the kitchen counters and arranged his closet, threw out old clothes, without being able to sit down and relax. All the while Bård was acting grumpy and as if Vegard had insulted him. The older brother tried to ask him what was wrong, tried to explain that Jørgen surely hadn't meant it as rude as it had sounded, but Bård ignored him completely. Vegard decided to back off and start feeding his own misery when he came to a point where he was starting to get seriously irritated at his brother. There was no point in being angry now.

Bård passed out on the sofa for several hours, marking endless minutes with his snoring and ragged breathing. At one point Vegard felt his forehead carefully, and came to a conclusion that the fever hadn't given in one inch. Shaking his head he silently asked no-one in particular why so much was going on right now. He needed a break, a quick breath between the waves that attempted to pull him down under, but he knew he wouldn't have the opportunity to get one.

When the younger Ylvisåker quickened from his dreamless sleep Vegard decided it was time to go to the store. He left Bård under a white blanket on the sofa, and headed a bit down the block to a small shop. He tipped down the hood, which had protected him from both the biting cold and potential fans, as he stepped inside. The cashier, a middle-aged woman called Bodil, greeted him with a warm smile.

”It's horribly cold outside, isn't it?” she said, a slight pity at her face as she studied Vegard's reddened face. The two of them knew each other well, Vegard had been a customer for years and Bodil was a fairly nice lady. However, Vegard knew she didn't like the cold, and his need to please others made him refrain from saying the cold didn't really bother him.

”It is,” he agreed. The shop was small and it was easy for the two of them to maintain smalltalk while Vegard circled the shelves in search for what he needed. It was always nice to speak to Bodil, she was one of those who didn't think differently of Vegard just because he was famous. She would talk to any of her customers in the same cheery way, regardless of age or occupation or gender. She was a genuine person, one Vegard wouldn't hesitate to call his friend should anyone ask.

”Oh, by the way, I read about Bård earlier, about his nose and arm,” she said as she had dealt with one of the few other customers. Vegard's mood had been improving considerably as he had led the conversation with her, but now it crashed down again and he had to close his eyes for the briefest of moments to gain enough power of will to talk about this without getting angry or sad or irritated.

”You did?” he asked as he picked out the best bananas. He tried to sound cheerful and unaffected, but it came off too enthusiastic.

”Yes, kind of difficult not to when you're as addicted to gossips as I am,” she laughed at herself, and Vegard forced himself to huff a little laugh too, though he felt like doing the opposite. ”But what happened though? He didn't get into a fight, did he?”

”No, Bård wouldn't get into fights like that,” Vegard started but was cut off soon.  
  
”No? I've always though him the type... Well, guess everybody doesn't just have it in themselves to get dirt and blood on their hands. Especially if you have as pretty hands as your brother.” She laughed again but Vegard remained silent. He was partly confused as he couldn't seem to make sense out of her words, which may have been because of the slow anger that was starting to simmer in his guts. To firstly think that his brother was some scoundrel who threw himself into such violent fights that he ended up with broken bones, and to secondly assume that he _wouldn't_ fight because he looked pretty, made Vegard irritated. Vegard was slightly unaccustomed to being this quick to anger, but he guessed the stressful situation in his life was making him more sensitive to express emotion than what he normally was.

”He got into a car accident,” he snapped sharply, more cuttingly than what he intended. Her smile died as quickly as the flame of a candle in a strong wind, and Vegard could feel the air tightening and getting colder around him. He could have sworn the other two customers inside the shop were all staring at him. His stern gaze on Bodil didn't loosen. ”He could've died. He crashed into a tree.”

His words shocked himself as much as they shocked the people around him. It was the first time he had uttered those words, even those thoughts. His brother could've died out on the side of a dark motorway, abandoned by the world, and he wouldn't have known anything. Instead of lying under the warm blanket on Vegard's couch, Bård could've been buried under a layer of dark soil, now frozen and unforgiving, and a cover of powdery snow, as white as the blanket at home. It felt so unreal and unbelievable, yet it had been closer than anything had ever been. He shuddered at the thought as an invisible snare was positioned around his neck.

”Gods,” Bodil murmured then, eyes wide with shock as he clutched her chest with one hand. ”That's awful, Vegard. I'm sorry.”

Vegard only shrugged. He was suddenly aware of how tired he was once again. _I'm tired all the time these days,_ he thought as he picked out a couple apples and headed to the counter. He knew he hadn't got some things he needed, but right now he wanted to get home and make sure Bård still occupied his couch and was alive and there. Bodil tried to ask a bit, she was clearly horrified to hear Bård had crashed the car and wanted to know just how bad it was, but Vegard couldn't summon the power to discuss it further. He paid, wished her a good day and pulled the hood tight around his curly head again.

It was only as he searched through his pockets for his keys with frozen fingers that he understood why he had become so angry so quickly and unexpectedly. It wasn't only her joking about his brother, but also his own lack of knowledge when it came to Bård. He didn't know his brother as well as he sometimes imagined or wished he did. He had no idea if Bård actually would be capable of getting into a fight that would end up in some form of bodily injuries, or if he was too much of a 'coward' for that. Vegard had never been as clueless of anything before, and he had no idea why this exact question annoyed him and drove him as crazy as it did. It just did.

He twisted the key in the lock and pushed the door open, calling a hushed hey in case Bård was sleeping again. But Bård replied with a broken and weak greeting, and Vegard guessed something was wrong as soon as he heard it.  
  
”What's wrong?” he asked anxiously as he rounded the corner and stepped into the living room. Bård was sitting on the couch, shoulders slouching and phone in hand. ”Bård?”

”Nothing,” he answered and cleared his throat from slime. He looked down at his lap and the phone he clutched. Vegard stepped closer and leaned over to look at the bright screen, almost expecting a text message from Jørgen telling him they wouldn't get the contract or something equal, but all he could see was Bård's reflection. He had his camera open and had inevitably been studying his own face. Vegard almost laughed in relief, had he not known Bård was really upset. He was probably still thinking of Jørgen's words. Vegard only smiled and shook his head softly, of course being that shallow was a bit ridiculous, but could he really judge the man for it? He reached down his hands and cupped them at Bård's cheeks, gently pulling his brother's gaze up from the screen. The different eyes met each other and merged into one. Vegard smiled and something tugged at the corner of Bård's lip, though he still looked sad and beaten. The older brother leaned down and kissed his brother, slowly and gently – almost too gently for Bård's taste – and when they parted again Vegard looked him deep in his eyes, wishing he could chase away the worry from the perfect blueness.

”It'll be okay, it'll all be fixed,” he whispered and ran a thumb over Bård's cheek. Bård broke away from Vegard's gaze for the fraction of a second, only to look back with a new gleam inside his eyes. Vegard couldn't quite place it, it could've been hope or it could've been disbelief. ”I mean it,” he whispered and kissed the corner of Bård's lips, and as he drew away there was a lopsided smile, tiny but very present.

”You never say anything you don't mean, do you?” Bård said and looked at his brother shyly. Vegard thought about it for a while _._

”Lying is never good,” he replied. ”I'm as honest as I can get.” He tucked a bit of hair behind Bård's ear and sat down beside him on the couch. One of his hands came to rest on Bård's thigh.

”Vegard?” Bård asked after a moment of silence, and the older brother hummed to tell Bård to continue. ”If you're as honest as you claim to be-”

”I'm as honest as you about where dad's tobacco used to disappear when you were a teenager,” Vegard teased and prodded Bård in the side with his elbow.

”Oh come on! I took maybe three!” Bård complained and slapped his brother's arm. ”And I never smoked, not once.”

”Sure, whatever,” Vegard laughed.

”It's not whatever, Vegard,” Bård said seriously. ”I don't smoke, never have. It's just a stupid way of getting yourself killed.” It was true, Bård had never smoked, not even tried though his friends had pressured him. He had often tried to suggest Calle would stop smoking, a bit jokingly of course because hey, one can't show too much care, right? And they both knew Vegard had a habit of smoking when he got really stressed, and Bård disliked that more than anything. ”The cigarettes were for my friend.”

”The same _friend_ who stole money from you and ran away with your girlfriend, I recall.”

”Well I didn't know that would happen at the time,” Bård muttered, a bit irritated.

”Because you suck at understanding people just as much as I do, even though you think you're better,” Vegard teased him further.

” _Anyway,_ ” Bård sighed. ”If you're so honest, tell me, did you really mean what you said about me having a worse-than-thought concussion?” Bård looked at Vegard with a genuine sort of worry in his injured face. Vegard tried to recall any moment he had talked about Bård's concussion, but he couldn't remember, so he only furrowed his brow and looked at Bård questioningly. ”About that I should tell my doctor about my memory getting worse, remember?” Bård looked everything but light-hearted, as if he was anxious and scared. Now Vegard remembered his own words from earlier, the sentences he'd spat out in his fuming fervour.

”No, I didn't mean that,” he said and put a hand on Bård's back, slowly sliding it up and down as if to rub off the misery. He wondered if this was what had upset Bård earlier. ”I'm sure you're okay, Bård. There's no need to be concerned.” Bård slumped against him with a tired sigh, his shoulder and the side of his face rested against Vegard's chest and the younger brother listened to Vegard's soothing breaths. The vibrations from his talk shook his body as his voice hummed like a silent thunder, bringing numb reassurance into Bård. ”If you're worried you could always talk with him tomorrow, you know? But honestly, I'm sure everything's okay.”

”Why did you say what you said earlier then?” Bård sounded weak. He sniffled and wiped his nose with his sleeve.

”I don't know,” Vegard said. A hollowness haunted him suddenly, and he watched the back of Bård's head in his lap, thinking that this shouldn't happen. None of this should happen. He loved this man, his own little brother, more than would ever be okay, and he wasn't even genuinely sorry. ”I don't know,” he repeated, voice a mere whisper now. And it was so very true. He didn't know what was happening to him, or to Bård. It was as if he stood somewhere high above his own life, just watching as someone unknown maneuvered him and led him in the wrong way, completely destroying all the plans he'd ever established in life. He knew nothing.

Bård's huff alerted the older Ylvisåker back to reality. Bård got up from his brother's lap and studied Vegard for a moment, a curious expression playing with his features. Vegard tried to read him, but it was difficult. It was only when Bård leaned in to give his older brother a heated kiss that he understood the biggest contributing component in his expression had been mischief. Bård pried his brother's lips apart with his wet tongue, gingerly demanding entrance. Vegard gave in, letting the brat have his way, and it wasn't long before Bård was trying to choke him by sticking his tongue down his older brother's throat. Vegard smiled as best he could while Bård was groping him with his only available hand, and he exhaled loudly through his nose as his stomach fluttered. Bård's hand was adventuring dangerously close to his private area, altering between stroking and squeezing lightly at his inner thigh. His tongue retreated eventually, and he went to kiss his brother's jaw instead. He started from the base of his ear and went all the way out to the tip of his chin before returning again. He sucked on Vegard's earlobe, which produced a low grunt, and then whispered into his ear.

”You make me horny, _brother_.”

Vegard cringed slightly at the word, but he wasn't entirely sure how he felt about it. As much as it felt like a slap to his face, it also kind of excited him in some sick way. He felt himself reddening with a swindling swiftness, and his spine felt like it was making a knot of itself. He grunted again.

”Don't call me brother now, Bård,” he murmured while Bård licked the shell of his ear.

”No? But I think you like it,” the younger man purred and drew his hand over his brother's crotch. Vegard hissed. ”I think you'd quite like your little _brother_ to -” his hand undid his zipper and slipped inside with ease ”- take care of you, hm? You're so tense all the time.”

Vegard almost felt like stopping Bård. He hadn't actually felt like doing anything like this today, he was far too stressed. He guessed he _was_ kind of tense. As damaged and scared as he felt about the two of them doing this, maybe he should just forget about all the threats and give in? Bård was sloppily palming him now, clouding his brain with slowly simmering pleasure, and he moaned silently, deciding to let his psychological battle fight itself somewhere else for a while. He wanted Bård's touch right now.

But just as things were starting to build up in the right way, as Bård was giving him the right kind of stimulation, both by bodily connection and through breathy words in his ear, it all disappeared. Bård got up on his legs and looked down on his older brother with the cruelest shit-eating grin on his stupid face.

”Hey!” Vegard called at him. ”You can't leave me like this!”

”I don't know, man,” Bård said with a shrug. ”I'm kind of hungry though.” And with that he grabbed the bags with groceries which still sat on the floor unpacked, and waddled over to the kitchen. Vegard watched him go and a huff left his lips. He was still hard and aching for touch, but his brat of a brother was clearly taking some sadistic pleasure in leaving him hanging like this.

”You're fucking unbelievable,” he laughed out loud in the direction of the kitchen where Bård was rustling with the bags.

”I know I'm gorgeous!” sounded the reply and Vegard snorted again. As much as he wanted to continue and let the pleasure come and consume him, erase every other worry from his mind, he found the situation too amusing and frustrating to go on. With a lick of his lower lip and a shake of his head he fastened his pants again and got up. _Maybe later._

\- - -

The rest of the evening was rather pleasant. While Bård still was sick, he was feeling considerably better already. His throat wasn't sore at all and he had no headache. Only his damn nose was runny.

The two of them made food together, and after that they made out together. They wouldn't get as far as to actually indulge in any action more advanced than that before Vegard's phone went off, rudely interrupting them.

It was Jørgen as Vegard guessed. Bård seemed to tense up a bit where he sat beside Vegard on the couch, but he relaxed as soon as the two men had spoken a bit. Jørgen had called TVNorge, and to all of their relief the crew hadn't seen the article yet. Jørgen had apologized and the people had been rather understanding. They'd only wanted to see Bård in a couple of weeks when the wound would supposedly be a bit better.

All in all everything was okay, or as okay as it could get. When Vegard threw away the phone on the coffee table in the living room, Bård slumped to his chest again. He sighed tiredly and murmured something Vegard couldn't make any sense of. They lay in silence for a couple minutes, Vegard's hand untangling Bård's messy hair between his fingers, and Bård listening to the drumming of Vegard's heart inside his chest.

Half an hour later they went to bed. They had completely given up on the standard of having one of them sleep on the couch, and Bård huddled up as close to Vegard's back as possible. Secretly the younger Ylvisåker brother cursed his brother's habit of sleeping with his face to the wall. He would've loved for Vegard's face to be the last thing he saw before he slipped into a foggy warm dream. He smiled faintly, his mind on the very brink of unconsciousness, as he was able to summon one last thought.

_I can settle with the next best thing too._

 


	17. And if Angels aren't real

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been long, I know. I'm sorry.

Hospital,

it said on the sign the car passed with slight over speed. Big bold letters stated the location of the grey house, as if it was something to be proud of. Bård sighed and leaned his head against the window, grimacing slightly as the icy glass made contact with his skin. He didn't like hospitals. He didn't like the sight of sick people. It repulsed him, seeing people cough their lungs out as if some unknown devil finally took its revenge. It made him anxious because they were fairly rich people from a good country, but still they held nothing against disease and sickness. One visit could ruin a life, just as well as it could give hope and secure everything. As many great things as there happened every day, he couldn't shake off the knowledge that he was going into the building which was the final residence for a lot of people before the unknown took them away. It was like a multilayered chess board. Chop, chop, lives were cut short, who's next?

He felt ill from the moment he stepped inside the building. Vegard had dropped him off and gone on own errands, and now Bård was alone to face the appointment. It wasn't that he was scared, or that he would've wanted Vegard with him, no, but it was highly unpleasant anyway. He didn't know if his newborn headache was real or imaginative, but he could easily blame it on the smell inside the building. He'd always thought hospitals reeked, but not of illness. No, it was more of disinfection substances and cleanliness. Pureness hung so heavily in the air that it felt pretended, forced, like someone wanted to erase the fact that people were suffering there.

He walked in the corridors, turning corners every now and then, and it could easily have looked like he was lost. People lined up at the falsely white walls like cows waiting to be slaughtered. Bård wanted to keep his breath each time he passed someone who coughed.

The only good side in hospitals was that most people were too tired or too occupied with themselves to notice others, and even if Bård walked around with a big scar across his face and his arm in a cast, nobody would stare at him. It was a welcome lack of attention.

Bård didn't like the doctor who finally called him in after a delay of fifteen minutes. He was short and almost bald despite his relatively few years, and he smelled faintly of foreign spices and carrot. He seemed like a nice and friendly man, nothing wrong with that, but his handshake made Bård grimace slightly. It lacked enthusiasm, it was sloppy and powerless, almost as if Bård was greeting a dead fish. This sort of handshakes were too familiar to Bård from their Norges Herligste time. For every man with a good and steady grip, there had been fifteen who behaved like Bård was carrying a disease which spread through skin to skin contact, or even by looking him in the eyes. He disliked those people profoundly.

The fact that those exact hands were the ones to rid him of the stitches wasn't pleasing him either. He felt slightly – very – uncomfortable when the man leaned in to take a closer look at his nose. Their faces were too close to each other for Bård's liking, and the man breathed through his mouth without realizing, thus sending a warm recurring breeze of moist carrot-smelling air in Bård's face. Bård almost cursed the fact that his nose had cleared up a bit and the flu was going away. Now was the only time he would've been happy not to smell anything.

The procedure was quick though, and Bård was on his way to thank the man and flee the room, hoping to get somewhere where he could find a mirror and some alone-time. He wanted to be rid of every human on the planet when he himself finally confronted the final horror that was supposed to portray his face nowadays. Unfortunately, the doctor-guy had the decency to stop him for a couple more questions. Bård clenched hiw jaw slightly and remained in his seat, sighing internally.

It took the guy two tries before Bård could clear his head enough to concentrate on the questions.

”You are aware that no scans were performed on your brain and skull the night you arrived at the hospital, mr. Ylvisåker? You remember that?” The guy looked at Bård with one lifted eyebrow, which for some reason made Bård extremely irritated and distracted.

”Yes,” he answered unenthusiastically, not really bothering to try to remember.

”Good.” The doctor looked slightly suspicious. ”Only a physical exam was performed on your reflexes and coordination. This was because of the rush with getting your arm fixed -” Bård cringed only slightly at the word, he didn't like needing to be 'fixed' ”-and your nose patched up. So therefore I'd just like to ask if you've experienced anything, just any changes in general?” He paused and Bård realized it was his turn to speak. Vegard's words from earlier made an appearance in his mind. Should he speak up now? But Vegard had said there was nothing to be afraid of. Surely everything was okay?

”No,” he said way more hesitantly than what he'd meant to. The doctor shot him a quick glance and looked down on his papers.

”No vomiting, blurred vision, changes in behaviour or thinking? Nothing of that sort?” Bård shook his head, too scared his mouth would betray him if he allowed it the control of his communication. ”Well that's good. No changes in your sleeping pattern either? You haven't been exceedingly sleepy in the past week?” Bård shook his head again. If the part about blurred vision was borderline lying, then this was blatant dishonesty. He had been sleeping a lot, but that was surely from being sick, right? ”Well then, mr. Ylvisåker, I'd say you're good to go. Everything seems to be alright.”

Bård remembered to ask for a new prescription for the medicines he'd got when he'd been released from hospital the day after the crash. The doctor seemed happy to write one, he didn't even ask if Bård truly needed them anymore. Which he actually didn't.

”Good pills, those,” he said as he handed over the receipt. ”Helps to basically everything, be it a simple headache or a broken bone. Dulls the pain nicely.”

”Yeah,” Bård said and sniffled, it had been a while since he'd had the time to blow his nose. The doctor seemed to catch that.

”You've been sick too? Horrible flu going around right now. You're one unfortunate fellow, mr. Ylvisåker.” He laughed and shook his head. Bård laughed unenthusiastically.

”Guess I am. Been sick a couple days, had fever and so on,” he mumbled as he stepped to the door and was ready to exit. The doctor's laughter died suddenly and Bård turned to look at him again.

”Fever?” he repeated and grabbed his papers. Flipping a few pages he looked up at Bård again. The patient had a worried expression on his face, blue eyes shining with alertness. ”Oh, don't worry!” He said quickly and smiled. ”It's probably only from the illness. Nothing to be worried about.”

”Could it hypothetically be something?” Bård asked silently and his worry was mixed with a small flame of fear and desperation. The young doctor drew a deep breath before he smiled again, but Bård could see the tiny trace of uncertainty. ”What do your papers say? Could something be wrong with me?”

”Mr. Ylvisåker,” the man started and Bård turned away from the door wholly, his heart beating a bit faster. There couldn't be something wrong with him, surely? That didn't happen to him, it couldn't. ”I'm not a specialist in this field, I'm afraid. I don't normally work with cranial matters.” He swallowed as his patient, just for a moment, looked like he would shout at him. ”But fever is one of the symptoms mentioned to appear when some head injury is caused. Or I mean it is a possible symptom, it doesn't always appear.” He trailed off as he read his papers again, partly for more information, and partly because he couldn't bear to look his patient in the eyes anymore. Bård stared at him intently. ”But, you know, you do seem to have a flu so I wouldn't say it's acute.”

”But there's a chance?” Bård said. His words echoed both their thoughts.

”I... There shouldn't be. The fever should come pretty soon after the concussion.” He flipped another page and his eyes flew over the letters in a haste. Bård noted the man was a very fast reader. ”You know what, mr. Ylvisåker?” he said at last and looked up at Bård. ”I really don't believe you have any worse case of head injury. I really don't. However-” the man put down his papers on his desk and folded his arms ”- I could contact someone with a more extensive knowledge about this, if you wish. That's up to you, but I wouldn't say there's a need for it. You haven't had any other symptoms, as you said, so everything should be okay.”

Bård spent one second intently debating with himself. Should he tell about the other symptoms – supposing he'd actually had any and not just imagined it all? He really didn't want to. If there was one thing he didn't want, that was it. Maybe he shouldn't, the guy had told him everything was okay.

He looked back at the doctor who waited for an answer. The other brow was hoisted again, almost like a horizontal question mark. In that moment Bård decided he should tell. This wasn't a matter of what he wanted or didn't want. If he truly had some form of injury going on in his head it wouldn't go away just because he didn't believe in it, however much he wanted to think that way. It was concrete and it was there to stay, in case it was there at all. He drew a deep breath and started talking.

\- - -

Vegard yawned for the third time and looked out at the snowy city on the other side of the door of his car. He had pulled up on the side of the road, not far from the hospital, when he'd run out of things to do. He'd met up with Jørgen and a couple others from their team and talked a bit. To his relief everything seemed to be under control. Jørgen knew one guy from TVNorge personally so the whole thing about the article wasn't as bad as it could have been. The disaster was averted.

Vegard had just gone in to a small cafe and bought a cup of coffee, only to remember how much he despised what others seemed to think was the essence of life. The foul taste lingered on his tongue like a thick layer of dust. The coffee had left his mouth dry - hot liquids in general always left his mouth and throat dry - and he imagined this was what swallowing sandpaper felt like.

He sighed and tapped his thigh in an uneven rhythm. His patience was running short. The watch on his wrist told him it had been one and a half hours since he dropped Bård off at the hospital. The appointment was supposed to be half an hour at it's most. Vegard began to wonder if Bård had forgotten or ignored the fact that Vegard would be picking him up. It wasn't very far to walk from the hospital to Vegard's place, so Bård could very well have waddled off alone if he locked his mind on it. Vegard sighed again massaged his eyes with his hands. This day had barely started and it was already getting too long. Sometimes time wouldn't tick by as fast as it was supposed to. He felt a dull pressure starting to build up in his head, and though he knew he shouldn't even allow the thought into his mind, he wondered if he was starting to fall sick. Now that he'd had that thought in his head, he had probably increased the possibility considerably. Acknowledging a threatening flu was practically like approaching a growling dog without any kind of protection. _Congratulations, Ylvisåker. You are officially ill._

He guessed it was inevitable anyway, what with the activities he and Bård had been executing. He would still be sure to have Bård serving him around as he was the one who had given him the flu.

Vegard was slung out of his thoughts when his phone started vibrating in the pocket of his pants. He cursed the damn skintight jeans as he tried to get the phone out in the limited space of his car. What wouldn't he do to look good?

”Ylvisåker,” he answered without glancing at the screen.

”Get your ass over here and take me home.” Vegard jumped slightly at the aggressive tone of his brother. ”I'm so done with this shit. Just get me home.”

”What happened?” Vegard asked as he turned the key in its place and the engine hummed to life. Bård let out a little laugh, and it sounded like he tried to keep from lashing out totally.

”Just fucking hurry up.”

\- - -

Vegard pulled in on the big parking area outside the hospital. He was about to step out of the car when he spotted Bård already walking in his direction. He remained in his seat, trying to calculate his thoughts into a conclusion of what possibly could have upset Bård. As the younger man approached Vegard could see his face clearly. The cut was barely visible, much better than what he'd thought it would end up like. Yet his brother's face was twisted in a furious expression. Something was evidently wrong.

Bård flung open the door to the passenger seat side with a poorly hidden violence. His long limbs were flung inside along with the rest of his body, and he sat in the seat with an angry sigh.

”Damn fucking good for nothing professionals,” he hissed through gritted teeth. ”This is what healthcare is these days. Fucking shit, that's what it is.”

”Did something happen? What's going on?”

”Did something happen?” Bård blurted out as if Vegard had said something scandalous. ”Did something fucking happen? I have to go back there in like a month because the damn doctor didn't know his stuff! That's what fucking happened.”

Vegard felt a bit confused. As far as he could see, Bård's face was nicely done, no traces of the stitches were left and everything looked as perfect as it could. Yet something more had happened, something he didn't know about.

”Would you want to clarify a bit?” he tried carefully, but Bård huffed.

”No, I'd want to go home.”

Vegard waited only a second longer before he gave up. He knew Bård wouldn't give in. If he didn't want to tell him he wouldn't. Besides Vegard was too tired to fight anyway. His headache was going into new dimensions, expanding and pulsating down his neck.

The car rolled onto the snowy road once more and neither said anything before Vegard pulled shut the door to his place, locking out the cold and the rest of the world. When he spun around, Bård had already disappeared into the living room. Vegard didn't know how to approach the situation. He didn't want his brother's wrath upon himself, and quite frankly he wasn't sure if he was up for a discussion with the man. Those had a habit of being hard enough without a hammering headache in the back of one's mind. Then again, if he didn't ask, Bård would probably accuse him of ignoring his problems, as he very clearly had something troubling him. Vegard would lose no matter what he did.

”Bård,” he started as he stepped into the living room. His little brother had sat down on the couch and leaned his head on his hands, his blue eyes staring straight forward on absolutely nothing. There was a bothered, slightly angry and annoyed look decorating his brow. ”Look, I don't know what's going on or what really happened, but if there is anything you need or want to tell me I'd rather you do it now.” There was no reaction from Bård. The shit didn't even blink his eyes and Vegard was actually starting to feel a sort ot prickling annoyance. ”No? Alright, I'm gonna nap then. You know where to find me.”

He walked to the bedroom, changed into more comfortable clothes and went back to the door to cast another glance at his brother. Bård hadn't changed his position at all. It almost looked like he was watching the TV intently, except the TV wasn't on. Vegard shook his head and closed the door with an annoyed sigh.

\- - -

Vegard wasn't stupid. He might be a bit socially set back, but he could still tell when something was bothering someone. Especially when that someone was his brother.

After hours of tiresome asking and nagging, Bård finally told him. He would be going back to the hospital at the end of January, and he would get an MRI scan of the brain. It was just to be sure there was nothing wrong, Bård assured him, and Vegard believed.

In the evening Vegard sat alone in the living room with his laptop on his knees. Bård was occupying the bathroom and the shower had been on for well over half an hour now. At one point Vegard had been almost sure he'd heard Bård moan, but he wouldn't bet his head on it. He was feeling delusional as it was, the headache had been dulled by painkillers but hadn't gone away entirely.

Vegard knew vaguely what an MRI scan was. He didn't generally know that much about medical matters, and he'd never really needed any scans or bigger medical procedures. Now he typed in 'MRI scan' into the Google search bar, and clicked his way through the web to find answers.

He read a lot, but he didn't actually process what his eyes were scanning. The only things he had at the end of it was what he had known on beforehand. MRI stood for magnetic resonance imaging, and you were pushed into a huge tube which used strong magnets to diagnose whatever there was to diagnose. The scan didn't have any – known – dangerous effects, and it wouldn't expose the body to x-ray radiation due to the magnets. Still the whole procedure sounded like something Bård, with his mild claustrophobia, would dislike very much.

When Vegard became aware of his surroundings again, the sound of the shower had stilled. He glanced at his watch, 8:20pm, too early to go to bed. He watched the seconds tick by for a while. How much was a second worth anyway? There had to be some mysterious value, some way of determining how much of your life you had wasted in an other measure than time. Vegard didn't know, he rarely knew anything these days. It was morbidly funny to see time concretely slipping away. This moment would never come back again, yet there he sat thinking of pointless things, breathing air without doing anything important, doing nothing. He should probably be disappointed in himself, but he felt nothing either.

Bård finally gave up his fort and came out of the bathroom. His head was wrapped in a towel and a pair of sweatpants hung low on his hips. His eyes were red and slightly swollen. Vegard concluded it was either from taking off his contact lenses or from crying. He further supposed it was the former, as Bård used to have little patience with that. If he was in a foul mood and didn't succeed at first try, he would just violently rub his eyes until the contacts came off.

Bård marched off to the kitchen. Vegard could hear him slam the door of the fridge a little too violently, and he wondered if the man was genuinely still angry or just seeking attention from Vegard. Either way Vegard started to grow tired of it. He glanced at his watch again. It had been five minutes since he'd looked at it last. He sighed and leaned his head back and closed his eyes. There was nothing he wouldn't give to just be able to go to sleep.

He heard Bård making his way over, and the couch bounced slightly as the younger brother sat down beside his brother. He opened his eyes and looked at Bård.

”Hey,” he said, trying to sound somewhat not irritated. That became instantly harder when Bård just ignored him. ”I don't know if you're angry at me or at the doctor or, I don't know - yourself? - but could you please just stop being an asshole for a while and talk to me?” Vegard tried and yawned. ”You're being a shit, you do know that?”

Bård only huffed and turned on the TV, flipping channels at an erratic pace. Vegard sighed and shook his head. As annoyed and done as he was with the brother, he still couldn't find the strength to kick up a fuss.

”Your face looks fine, Bård,” he mumbled and rubbed his eyes. A compliment would probably work.

And it did, kind of, depending on which effect one was looking for. Bård talked, but his mood was a wreck.

”I know it looks fine,” Bård almost spat. ”I've been told how 'fine' it looks at least five times today. I don't care. People can't see past the fucking scar anymore. I used to be me. Now I'm just a survivor.”

”I don't think I understand...” Vegard said

”None of you understand,” Bård sighed, slowly calming down. ”I don't want to need reassurance of how fine I look. I don't want to depend on others. I don't want to do this, Vegard. I'm sca-”

He fell silent and his head hung tiredly from his shoulders. Vegard was still looking at him, completely at a loss of words. The older brother couldn't make any real sense of Bård's rambling. After a moment of silence, with only the TV discussing something irrelevant in a hushed voice in the background, Bård moved again. He took a deep breath and rose, without a word he walked to the bedroom and closed the door. Vegard felt stupid, as if he'd missed some clue Bård had given him. He watched the TV for half an hour without really watching it. It was almost nine o'clock when he finally decided to give up and go to bed, there was no use fighting tiredness when it would consume him eventually anyway.

\- - -

Bård wasn't usually a dreamer, even though vivid dreams ran strongly in their family. He was content with the black nothingness that night usually brought him, though every now and then he would see nightmares, usually with Africa as their topic. Fever, however, used to make him see colourful and strange dreams with too swift motions and changes, and it never failed to make him restless. They weren't really nightmares, but they made him highly uncomfortable and troubled. He would rather stay up all night and not sleep than have these fast-paced images run through his head and drive him crazy.

And that was exactly what he did. After the second time he woke up sweaty and panting from an abstract and wild dream, he decided to eliminate the option that was sleep.

Vegard snoozed beside him. Bård had been asleep by the time he had come in and went to bed, and the older brother had probably had to crawl over Bård. Vegard's breath was a bit heavier than normal, and Bård suspected he was getting sick too. He was kind of pleased by that, kind of.

It wasn't long before Bård got bored. Vegard's breaths alone weren't enough to keep him entertained, no matter how much he enjoyed listening to them. Soon he found his mind wandering. His thoughts wouldn't keep away from the one thing he didn't want to think about, and he was back at the hospital in an instant.

He had been shaken and confused, angry even, when he finally exited the doctor's room. The white walls had all seemed the same as he rushed past the long corridors of the building. He had needed to get out, he had been running out of air. The smell of buried sickness and pretended cleanliness had almost suffocated him. It had been a miracle that he found the big doors of glass and the white winter behind them.

However something had stopped him in his tracks just before he stepped outside into the cold. It was a clear and hopeful voice, free of worries and misery, and first he had thought it came from somewhere inside his own head.

”It's the fox-say-man!”

It wasn't imaginative. Someone had recognized him.

Bård had turned around with a smile plastered on his face, but the sight had made him go pale in an instant. A small girl, no more than six years old, with long and golden hair cascading down her shoulders and far down her back, had stood looking at him with a hopeful and delighted expression on her face. She had been clad in a white dress despite the horrid cold weather outside, and Bård had guessed she wasn't just on a quick visit to the hospital. Her eyes were a dark grey, like the sky outside, and her skin was fair. While she was a beautiful young girl, she had a few disturbing features which had made Bård's stomach churn and his throat knot, making it impossible to swallow.

Her lips were unnaturally fair, almost the same colour as her – also unnaturally, he noticed now – white skin. There were dark patches underneath her eyes, and her gaze had a certain glassiness added to the joy. However these were minor errors contributing to the real disaster. Her smile was oddly lopsided, as the right half of her face, and the right half of her body, was horribly burned. Her face was rough and knobbly, except for where it was an intensive pink and seemed to be very tight and hurting. It was yellow and dark red at places, flaking and bleeding even. Bård had felt like he was standing face to face with the devil. The devil who had taken a little girl captive and was destroying her.

”Mom, look! The fox-say-man noticed us!” Her clear voice rang, and it was something so very contrasting to her appearance. Bård had wanted to run away, had wanted to hide from this nightmare. But instead some instinct had made him kneel down as the girl came running towards him with uneven steps. Her knee and hip didn't bend normally for the burnt and tightened skin.

”Hi!” She had exclaimed as she had crashed into his arms. He had been scared he would hurt her, but she had hugged him so tightly he had to hug her back. The overwhelming feeling of having a little child, so brittle and bodily torn, pressed to his own form made him exhale sharply.

”Hi,” he had whispered when nothing else would leave his lips. It had hit him hard that he was holding someone who had been touched by death. He was holding someone who was like him, but even more robbed of life. She had drawn back after a while with the widest and brightest smile and her grey eyes studied his face. It was a miracle her other eye wasn't completely destroyed.

”What happened to your face?” She had asked and lifted a finger to trace the scar across his nose with the lightest touch and a fascination on her face. He couldn't help but be equally fascinated at her open behaviour and her braveness, and he had wanted to ask the same question about her. Just not perhaps ask her about it, but maybe fate or God, or the devil.

”I got into a car accident,” he had replied before he could think of saying it in a way more suitable for her ears. Luckily she seemed to be unaffected, and her hand had moved to play with his hair.

”Is that why your hand is broken too?” She had asked. Bård nodded. ”You must be watched.” She had said and tilted her head a little, her fingers fiddling with a strand of his hair.

”What?” he had asked with a slight laugh, but she had been completely serious.

”By angels, of course. You must have a lot of guardian angels when you survived.”

Bård had no memory of the rest of it all until he had exited the hospital and called Vegard. His mind had gone blank when she had started talking about angels, and he had been slung years back in his life, to a warm and sunny day, with late summer in the air. He had been about the same age as the girl, maybe a year older. Vegard had played with him out on a field. In the memory the sunshine was golden, and the green grass gleamed like a plateau of emerald. He could remember Vegard calling him in between his laughter, and the smell of flowers had been strong in the gentle wind.

They had played together for hours, chasing and wrestling each other, the rest of the world forgotten, too slow for their games. Sweat had been dripping down their necks when Vegard finally ran Bård down and pushed him to the ground where they lay down side by side, panting and giggling in the slowly setting sun.

It had been a time when they'd just returned from Africa, and the two young boys tried to build up their lives in this new world they had no knowledge of. Even their games were different now, for though they had played like this, they missed one from their gang.

In Africa they had befriended a dog. There wasn't any amazing story of how two boys had found a wounded or starved dog and saved it. Actually, it had been a fairly healthy, if pretty old, dog. They had just found it lounging around on the street, and the little boys they were, they had petted it. Ever since it had followed them sometimes, yet sometimes disappearing on its own paths. Some days it would wait outside their house – it was never let in – and they would go out and play together until a swift sunset surrounded the world. The dog would follow them home, keep them safe, and then disappear into the night. It was very clear that the boys and the dog had own separate lives, but occasionally they enjoyed each other's company.

The boys had called the dog Bamse, after the Swedish cartoon character. They had a couple Bamse cartoon books, and Vegard once pointed out the dog's ears kind of looked like Bamse's. It was only months later that they discovered the dog was actually female.

When they returned to Norway, Bamse had to be left behind. There was no way their parents would ever allow or be able to take her with them, and besides she had been an old dog, and she seemed to be getting along pretty well on her own. It was almost certain someone was feeding her often.

They'd never seen her again, and they didn't know how or when she'd died. She hadn't most likely yet died that day Bård and Vegard had ran around on large field of grass in Norway, as it had only been months since they'd moved back, but the memory of her had brought thoughts into Bård's mind. He had wondered if she was safe and how she was feeling, if she'd found any old thrown away shoes to chew on. Those were questions he wouldn't get an answer to, so he turned to his all-knowing brother.

”What do you think Bamse's doing?” he'd asked and earned a glance from Vegard where he rested on his back beside Bård. The older boy had thought about it for a minute.

”She's probably sleeping, you know? She's a lazy dog,” he'd replied after a moment and turned his head back to the sky, closing his golden eyes gently.

”Do you think she misses us?” Bård had went on, not noticing his brother's slightly annoyed wrinkle on his dark brow.

”Dogs don't miss people, Bård. They're animals. They don't feel.”

Bård had also wrinkled his brow then. He didn't understand. Animals did feel, right? Just as much as humans. He had been entirely convinced, but then again Vegard was always right. He was so wise.

”Do you think she's safe?” he'd asked after a moment of silence. Vegard had sighed, obviously not up for discussing this right now.

”Yeah,” he'd answered.

”Do you think someone's watching over her?” he'd continued, still not letting Vegard relax.

”I don't know what you mean,” Vegard had mumbled and turned his back to Bård, hoping to make him shut up for a second. But Bård had sat up and leaned over Vegard's form, looking down at his face.

”You know, like angels.” He had said through a childish smile.

”Angels?” Vegard had repeated mockingly and laughed, sitting up too. Bård backed away a bit. ”Bård, angels aren't real. Only small kids believe in angels.”

Little had Vegard known that he had thrown the perfect world of a seven year old into disarray with his words. Because to Bård, Vegard held all the answers. He knew everything and he was the coolest human being on earth – at least until Bård hit puberty with the force of a scared elephant running through a wall of paper. All his life he had believed there was someone watching over him, over his brother and his family, and suddenly that something wasn't anymore. That day had been the day when Bård had been exposed to the world, to how true and real everything was. And he had never gone back since.

”But if angels aren't real, then-” he had tried to argue, the disbelief in his voice mirroring his thoughts perfectly. But Vegard hadn't let him go on.

”Then you should shut up. They aren't real. Get over it, stupid kid.” He had said as he rose, and soon he had ran off, probably home, where he would go on with his life while he left his vulnerable and cut-open brother to 'get over it' all by himself. Bård had laid his head back down on the grass, and he had felt the air cool down as the sun set. It was odd how the sun set a lot slower in Norway. It was like his whole life had calmed down when they'd returned to the north, as if the colder climate – even though it was summer – was slowing down time itself. His bright eyes had scanned the darkening sky, and he'd thought it must be true. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't see any angels.

Now as he lay in bed, beside his brother, thinking about Bamse and emerald fields and Vegard's words and slow sunsets, he felt abandoned.

He didn't even know the girl's name, didn't remember if she'd told him. He felt sad for her, though she had seemed to be everything but sad. It was amazing how one's life could be different based on something you knew or didn't know. The little girl believed in angels, just like he had. He knew something she didn't. Angels weren't real.

_And if angels aren't real, what am I to believe in?_

As a kid he had imagined everyone had a guardian angel who could take one blow for the one they protected. They would die for their human or animal, save them by shielding them with their big feathery wings. After that the protected one would be left alone, exposed to the world and its malevolence.

_And if angels aren't real, why can I still see white feathers stained by blood falling to the ground?_

If there had been no one to watch over him, then why was he still alive?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably as frequent as my updating gets tbh, I'm really sorry about that.
> 
> (Fun fact: I was originally gonna name the dog Teddybjørn (teddy bear) but it reminded me so much of tedddy-p so I just changed it to Bamse :P)


	18. Through Thin Ice and Into the Abyss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long, please bear with me!

”It doesn't make any sense though,” Bård said for perhaps the fifth time, and Vegard would have contemplated murder if his head hadn't been doing just that to the rest of his body already. He pulled the blankets up over his ears and hoped to sink through the sofa and the floor and maybe the earth too, all the way down to the hot core where he could just dissolve and stop existing. But Bård made sure he was painfully aware of how present he was. ”I mean, why can't the press just contact Jørgen or something? Do they absolutely have to come up with bad guesses and then just put them online and pose them as the truth?” Bård laughed as he clicked yet another link on his computer. ”Why do they do that?”  
  
”I don't know, I'm not the press,” Vegard mumbled against a pillow.  
  
”I mean really? Now I've been horseback riding too. This is ridiculous. What are these people on?” Bård sat with his nose glued to the screen, grinning at all the stupid theories about what had happened to him. His face was the cover of many gossip magazines, as well as ladies' magazines, though that was hardly news. Jørgen still hadn't given out any official answer to all the drama, though Bård had discussed it with him and they'd come to a conclusion that he would tell the real story if a reporter called. Apparently their articles sold better with wild and action-packed scenarios where the younger Ylvisåker brother had been doing this and that.  
  
Bård's mood had taken a huge turn suddenly. He'd been down and cranky a couple days, snapping at Vegard for the littlest things. And the situation had only seemed to get darker the more he shook off his flu, until the day after new year's eve when everything had suddenly changed for the better. He had been all sunshines and happy conversations ever since, much to Vegard's horror as it was the older one's turn to fall sick. Vegard didn't handle sickness very well anyway, and having a hyped up Bård jumping on his nerves twenty four hours a day, rather than a sulky one occasionally throwing a mean comment in his face, was taking its toll. Vegard began to question his own memory. Maybe he had just imagined Bård's bad mood and everything involving the visit at the hospital. The fever did strange things to him when it got high enough. He wasn't always sure what to believe in, nor did he actually care. Mostly he just wanted to become the pharaoh he was fated to be, mummified under his pyramid of snot-drenched tissues.   
  
”Can you imagine...” Bård still went on with his crap, the same crap he'd been living off of for days now. Why was his voice so loud even though he sat at the opposite side of the room? Vegard began to think it had been a severe mistake to ever get up from bed today.

”Can you imagine shutting up for a second,” Vegard mumbled. His words knew no such thing as coherency.  Bård ignored his  half-assed attempt at complaining . Whether that was simply because he could, or because he hadn't heard Vegard, was not entirely clear  to the older brother.  Both options seemed equally possible.  
  
A violent snowstorm was hammering at their  windows while blue shadows danced a quiet dance at the walls of the living room.  The sky had darkened outside long ago, though the clock only was five in the evening. The artificial  glow from Bård's computer was the only source of light they had. Bård's face was illuminated  by the dead  shine from the screen , cold and flat, and it hid most of his facial errors, such as the scar.  Small imperfections were erased and his face was like a canvas with the most perfect of strokes across it, painting up a flawless view. It was a pity Vegard had turned his back Bård's way and had pulled the blanket s over himself for protection against the world.  
  
Bård had managed to entertain himself  for a surprisingly long time, Vegard had to give him that. But the older Ylvisåker also knew that every minute that bounced past brought Bård closer to the  point of definite boredom. Everything would ultimately come down to that,  it always did . It was as if the  core to Bård's existence was boredom, the base of everything he was. Everything else just built around that as extensions to  him . Boredom was stage one of Bård.  
  
Sure enough, the sound of the computer lid snapping shut reached Vegard's ear s like the sound of a whip. He groaned mentally, his mind growing tense as he awaited Bård's next move. He would never get rest.  
  
”  I'm bored.”  
  
And it was on, the never-ending game of attention. The game Vegard was worst at.  
  
 _ Wow that's new!  _ Vegard wanted to say, but he knew that would only fuel Bård's blood-thirst further.  
  
”  Mmhmh,” was what he settled with saying. It was his default answer, neutral and delicately designed not to cause any further commotion. It lacked both power and provocation, and still managed to sound almost like the older brother had heard or cared about what Bård had to say.  
  
”Vegard,” Bård groaned, and the curly hair  e d could practically hear how Bård was twisting and turning in his seat. He squirmed like a little boy on a sugar rush in a church.  
  
”What?” Vegard mumbled against  his pillow. No reply came from Bård in a long time, and Vegard almost started to relax, when he suddenly felt a weight plopping down on the sofa he was lying on.  _ For fuck's sake,  _ he thought and rolled his eyes mentally.  
  
”  Come on, Vegard-” Bård whined and  grabbed Vegard's leg to shake him out of his passiveness. ”Can't we just do something?”  
  
”Do something on your own, Bård. I'm sick.” Vegard was utterly fed up with Bård's dependence, but he still managed to sound less stern than what he had meant to. What had happened to his plan of making Bård look after him as snot ra  n down his cheeks in broad rivers? He was as weak as he'd always been when it came to making Bård do favours for him. If he was quite honest it had probably been a stupid plan from the start. Bård wasn't really the serving kind.  
  
”But I don't know what to do,” Bård complained, and for a moment Vegard felt like he actually was conversing with a five year old.  
  
”Not my problem,” he answered and wrapped  himself tighter into his cocoon of blankets. Everything stilled and Bård didn't say anything for a long time.  Vegard couldn't relax, he knew Bård far too well to think he'd given up.  
  
True enough, Bård's hand settled on Vegard's leg soon again. It rested on his  calf just a little too gently, and this time underneath the blanket. Vegard shivered slightly at the touch. He was almost sure of Bård's intentions, the slight tension gave it away.  
  
The hand didn't move at first, merely rested there, building up an imagined pressure with its too light touch. But then the narrow fingers stirred. They rubbed small circles, varying the speed and pressure from time to time. Vegard's skin prickled slightly as the fingertips gently tickled him.  He knew that Bård could sense his reactions, and half of him wanted to tell the brother to stop.  
  
Instead he remained still, stuffy breaths only slightly accelerated, and savoured the feeling of Bård's narrow fingers dancing on his skin. The circles got wider and more prominent, and Vegard would have relaxed fully into it if he hadn't known the reason behind his brother's actions.  
  
The rubbing motion reached  the back of his knee , passed it and continued agonizingly slowly up the back of his thigh as he laid on his stomach. His legs had been rid of the layers of blankets, and the cooler air resting on his legs contrasted with the warmth that wrapped his upper body. Shivers crept up his body more frequently now, feeling as real and invading as Bård's fingertips, making it harder to stay completely still. He wasn't sure of what reaction would have been the right in this situation. He barely even knew if he wanted to do this right now or not.  
  
”Turn around,” Bård's low voice whispered right into his ear.  The voice inside Vegard told him to do the opposite and remain where he was, but who in their right mind would listen to an imaginary voice?  
  
Vegard was met by Bård's surprisingly sincere face. There was no mischief, no trace of a smirk Vegard was almost certain there would be. Vegard settled back on the  sofa without a sound,  now on his back, and his eyes rested on Bård as the younger one went back to massaging his thigh with an intense look on his face.  
  
”You know I'm not really  feeling up  for this right now,” Vegard said. He didn't want to give his brother the satisfaction of knowing  he had managed to turn Vegard's attention and interest on himself.  
  
”I'm gonna make you  feel _ up  _ for it then,” Bård shot back at him with a quick lopsided grin. Vegard gasped in surprise as Bård's hand suddenly went from his outer thigh to his inner and up to his crotch in a smooth motion that left the trace of his touch on fire.  Vegard hadn't bothered to put on any pants that morning as he had stumbled from the bed over to the sofa, and the thin fabric of his boxers was the only thing separating Bård's fingers from his slightly swelling privates. Bård watched in delight as Vegard squirmed a little, biting his lip to prevent giving out any sounds. He knew this was a battle, and Bård wanted nothing more than to prove  to Vegard  that he possessed the power to make his brother aroused against his will.  It would have been endearingly brotherly, had not the theme of their competition been so far beyond everything that was okay for two brothers to pursue.  
  
”  Bård...” Vegard choked as his brother's hand slipped inside the boxer briefs. ”Bård, I really don't -”  
  
”Shh,” Bård hushed him and crawled on top of hi  m until his fa c e loomed above Vegard ' s with a tiny smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. It was an awkward and tiring position, as Bård only had one hand to steady himself on.  He lowered himself entirely on top of Vegard, pressing his thigh against his brother's half-hard  cock , earning a muffled grunt from the man underneath him.  
  
”Shh, Vegard,” he repeated, a hot whisper into Vegard's ear. ”If you won't take the initiative, I will.” He moved slightly to kiss Vegard's dry lips, long and slow, ending it with a light bite of Vegard's lower lip, enough to make it swell just a little. ”  Besides, you want it. I know it.”  
  
With that he pushed down on Vegard's lower regions again, and the older brother arched his back, meeting Bård's chest with his own until there was no space between them.  Bård continued moving around, squirming slowly - agonizingly slowly - making Vegard frustrated. All the time that sassy smirk ghosted Bård's lips, those bright pink lips.  _ He'd deserve to be roughed up a bit,  _ Vegard thought as his eyes fastened on those very lips. At once a mischievous thought arose in his mind, and he managed to keep still and put a bored expression on his face. It wasn't long before Bård's smile began to pale and his brow wrinkled slightly as his dirty tricks wouldn't do it anymore. He looked at Vegard with confusement, and the older brother  cocked an eyebrow and sighed to convey boredom.  
  
”If you insist on doing this, you could at least get to it properly,” he said in an indifferent tone, but chuckled inwardly as he saw how Bård's former triumph died out. The golden haired looked utterly dumbed where he leaned over his brother, trying to figure out where he had gone wrong  with his plan. ”Well?  Get on with it!”  He put a hand to Bård's chest and ushered him backwards gently, until he sat up, straddling Vegard's lower legs. The boy still looked a little lost, and a little suspicious. Vegard rolled his eyes once and nodded towards his own crotch and the subtle bulge rising there. He wanted to laugh at Bård's expression as he slowly realized and reached his hand to Vegard's briefs. The older brother helped to get down the  underwear , and finally Bård's hand made proper contact with his cock.  
  
Vegard wasn't particularly feeling like doing any of this right now, but who was he to deny a spontaneous hand-job?  He enjoyed watching Bård for a while, though there wasn't very much to see for the darkness that surrounded them. He could still distinguish Bård's concentrated features, and a dark red colour spreading across his face. Vegard smirked and threw back his head, taking in the touches and sensations, the jolts along his spine, and he gave out a shaky moan to reward his brother.  
  
It took some time until Vegard realized why he wouldn't get off on this. He was aroused, certainly, but he just couldn't seem to get past that one point. It was as if something kept him back.  
  
Soon he realized the fault was in Bård, and the fact that the younger brother had to use his left hand for this. Naturally he wasn't as good with that  one as with his right hand, and it showed as he twisted and pulled and jerked. It just wasn't enough for Vegard. It was good, but nowhere near as good as his right-handed actions.  
  
”  Bård,” he breathed out with a huskiness to his voice. It caught Bård's attention immediately, and Vegard motioned to him to stop and get closer to Vegard's head. When their faces were only inches apart Vegard kissed him softly, then whispered into his ear with hot puffs of breath, ”I want you to do a thing for me, Bård. Would you do something for me?” He paused to listen for a confirmation, but could only feel Bård's silky hair tickle his cheek as the man nodded. ”Good. I want you to continue with this, okay? But I want you to do it with your mouth.” He pulled back to look at Bård's face, and he felt a shiver on his skin like a wave when he saw how Bård's lips parted in a soundless gasp, and his eyes widened at the new suggestion. ”You'd do that for me, hm? I know you will.”  
  
He saw Bård swallow nervously. It was apparent he hadn't done anything like that before, of course he hadn't – he was into chicks, right? Eventually he seemed to gather enough courage to change his expression into an as unaffected one as possible, but his lip-licking still gave his nervous state of mind away. His mouth had probably gone entirely dry, poor boy. Vegard smirked as he realized the situation had gone from Bård dominating to him dominating. That was totally how it should be.  
  
Bård took his time just sitting there, breathing and collectin the shards of his shattered thoughts. His heart accelerated into swindling speeds every now and then, only to calm back down a little, then to climb up again. There seemed to be no end to it, and he should probably just go for it. It wouldn't get any better anyway. With a last glance to his brother's dark face, and a lick of his lips, he leaned in slowly. Just as his lips were about to make contact with his brother's cock, Vegard interrupted him.  
  
”I think I want it done this way,” he mumbled and pushed Bård off himself and got up. Bård knelt on the sofa before him as he stood on the floor. The younger Ylvisåker's shoulders had shrunk and  he looked up at his brother with wide eyes. ” You'll have to get on the floor for this to work,” Vegard said and motioned to the floor. ”You're too tall when you sit on the sofa.”  
  
Bård moved quickly, kneeling down on the floor in front of Vegard, who almost couldn't keep looking at his brother without breaking his new authoritative stance. The sight was too delicious, too unbelievable to take in. Bård's hair was fluffed up a bit, his blue eyes huge and darkened by the shadows of the room, but best were his lips. They were parted slightly, the lower lip a bit swollen from earlier kissing, and he was still licking them now and then. Bård's whole body was tense and anticipating, waiting for what plans Vegard had for him. God, did Vegard enjoy to have power over his brother. The annoying prick could damn well expect a punishment for not leaving Vegard in his misery and coughs and soaked tissues.  
  
”  Open your mouth,” Vegard ordered sternly, and Bård's expression gave way to both fear and arousal for the fraction of a second. He gaped a bit, not nearly enough, and on a whim Vegard hissed and gripped his brother's light hair with a firm grip, sending a surprised yelp out of Bård. ”You know that's not enough, I can't fit into that. You know that so don't kid around with me!” He tugged at Bård's hair, making him open up wider, wide enough for Vegard to be able to push himself inside with a groan. He could feel a hotness pulsate through his veins, almost like anger, but even that was no match for the hotness that now enclosed his cock.  
  
Bård tried desperately to pull back under Vegard's grip, totally overcome with the new situation. But the older brother wouldn't give in though Bård protested through wails and a scrunched up face.  Long spindly fingers grasped Vegard's thigh so hard they would leave bruises, and Bård's breaths were loud and panicky through his nose.  
  
Vegard gave him a fair amount of time to adjust, and while he seemed to calm down a bit he still tensed up just as much each time Vegard moved even a bit. Blue eyes looked up from underneath his wrinkled brow, and he looked pleadingly at his brother's stern face. Vegard wouldn't soften.  
  
”This was what you wanted, right?” He said calmly, voice barely more than a harsh whisper. ”  Maybe this will teach you to leave me alone when I want to be alone.” Vegard pulled out slightly and thrust in just a bit, making Bård squirm and his breath quicken. If not for the firm hand in the light brown hair, the younger one would have pulled away and disappeared long ago. ”Or who knows, maybe you'll end up liking this. You seem to be so hungry for cock anyway.”  He moved more now, in and out, drawing whimpers and complaints from Bård as he tried to catch his breath each time it was possible. Vegard enjoyed the feeling of complete power, of having his brother on his knees in front of him, having his  little brother on his mercy. It was intoxicating, addicting. He needed more.  
  
”You're a slut, Bård,” he groaned as he slammed all the way in, throwing his head back as a wave of pleasure threatened to swipe him off the earth. He drew out and rammed himself back in repeatedly. ”Needy brat, cock-slut,” he hissed as Bård gaped for air between his moans and whimpers. ”Have you ever been called that before? By anyone other than me? No?”  He could feel Bård gagging around him when he slammed into the back of his throat, and long fingers gripped Vegard's thigh  if possible even hard er . ” That must be because nobody else knows what you really want.  They all think it's you who make your little whores spread their legs, when truly you are the whore .”  He didn't care  about Bård's breathy wails ,  _ couldn't  _ care. It was too good, too long since he'd  received a blow-job . He didn't care.  
  
Bård's eyes were tightly shut, single hot tears tumbled down his cheeks. He'd never done this before, at least not this part. He'd been the receiver, yes, but that too had been different. He couldn't recall being this brutal and out of control.  He didn't like the taste or the texture, or anything really. He couldn't decide whether he wanted it to be over, or if the delicate moans and grunts  and names coming from his brother  combined with his own powerlessness made the awful feeling worth it.  
  
”Bård...” Vegard chanted his brother's name  when all other thoughts had finally left his sanity, and  he eased the pace a bit. He reduced the tight grip on his hair to a light clutch, and Bård  managed to catch his breath a relax just a tiny bit.  The younger brother thought about what to do for a second when Vegard seemed to be a bit out of it, and even surprising himself, he started moving his head  without Vegard's forcing movements .  The older brother looked down at him and noticed a tear on his red cheek. His thumb wiped it off and blue eyes,  framed by wet and clumped-together eyelashes, flickered up to his like torches in the dark.  
  
”You're so good.”  Vegard whispered  almost affectionately and gasped immediately as Bård hummed around his cock. He knew he wouldn't be able to hold back very long anymore, no matter how much he would've wanted to. ”Take up the pace.” He rasped and Bård's head,  slightly reluctantly, started bobbing  back and forth faster. In the back of his head Vegard couldn't help but think  that this was one of the rare moments he got to gi ve orders to his brother. His head dropped back for a second and he smiled contently.  
  
When he looked back at his brother, the younger one had closed his eyes and his face looked peaceful  as his swollen lips moved over Vegard's flesh. It was a beautiful, though extremely sick sight. Somehow Vegard couldn't find himself to be bothered by the wrongness of it. It almost turned him on even more.   
  
Vegard's arousal peaked  unexpectedly and he thrust ed one last time, causing Bård to grimace as he spilled inside his mouth. Bård's lips came off Vegard's cock as soon as the cum touched his tongue, and a white trail hung from the corner of his lips. A strange, bitter taste coated all the walls of his mouth,  and he felt like throwing up or at least  spitting out the foreign fluids along with their sickening taste . He didn't know what to do and only looked  up at his panting brother, whose  feverish brown eyes locked on Bård's face.  
  
”Swallow it,”  Vegard demanded  with a breathy voice after half an eternity had passed, and Bård let out a small sound of disapproval. Vegard  swallowed and ca ught his breath, bent down and planted a kiss on Bård's tightly shut lips. ”Swallow it,”  h e said again, while planting several kisses on Bård's  cheeks and chin .  One hand went up to Bård's face and brushed his cheek lightly before gripping his hair and tipping his head backwards. Vegard continued the kisses on his exposed neck. Bård moaned awkwardly, his mouth was still full of the warm substance and it was becoming more and more difficult to keep it in. He tried to swallow, but the angle of his head mixed with the sensations coming from the bottom of his stomach made it difficult for him, and he only whimpered in distress. ”Be  good , Bård.” Vegard breathed against his collarbone.  The younger brother winced and swallowed again, and this time it all went down as a warm, slick clump.  
  
”  Fuck!” He groaned as soon as he gasped for air. ”That was fucking disgusting!” His hand finally eased the clutch of Vegard's thigh, leaving red marks behind, marks Bård was anything but sorry for. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked down at it in disgust. ”Oh fuck me, that's so gross.”  
  
A tense silence fell upon them, and for some reason Bård couldn't bear to meed Vegard's eyes. The temperature in the room seemed to drop to chilly levels in an instant.   
  
”  Get out of my sight,” Vegard  suddenly hissed and fell back on the sofa. Bård looked in confusement as his brother disappeared under the blankets again and fell completely still, apart from his form heaving slightly too exaggerated breaths. It was almost as if he was angry.  
  
”Hey, I'm still unattended!” Bård complained and got up. ”You can't have all the fun and then just expect me not to want anything back!”  
  
”I said get the fuck out,” Vegard snarled, and Bård realized something was wrong. But his blood boiled too hot, and the arousal in his pants was enough to get his mind off whatever could be bothering Vegard.  
  
”Ungrateful asshole,” he mumbled as he rushed into the bedroom. The door swung shut with a loud bang which made him look like a pissed-off teenager, but he couldn't care less.  He threw himself on Vegard's bed and pulled down his pants enough to reveal his swollen and leaking cock. Angry pulls drew low grunts and groans from his lips as he jerked himself  closer to release. He was quick to realize that release wasn't within his reach though. The awful taste still lingered strongly in his mouth, constantly reminding him of how his control had turned straight around and against him. It turned him on in a way he'd never imagined would be possible. He liked being the one in control, but that – that had been something entirely else.  
  
As for the names Vegard had called him, slut among others, he didn't know why he enjoyed it as much as he did. Maybe it was true? Maybe he was a whore?  
  
A new round of pleasure  surged through him, leaving his body bubbling under his skin. His every bone ached for it, for more. He needed Vegard inside of him so bad, and there was nothing he could do about it.  
  
”Fucking hell,” he grunted and got up. He had actually thought about just that one day when he'd been down to the city wandering about. It had been a miracle he hadn't needed to find a public toilet and lock himself inside to jerk off to the thought of his brother's moans as he came inside  of Bård. The younger brother had probably been red to his ears when he'd walked into a pharmacy and bought a bottle of lube.  
  
That very bottle he had hid under the mattress of Vegard's bed, part of  Bård hoping he would never find it, part of him hoping he would come to Bård with it in his hand and a questioning expression on his face the next time he changed the sheets. Bård reached under the mattress and grabbed it. He hesitated only a second befo re he opened it and with some difficulty, due to his one-handedness, poured a bit onto his hand. He hissed as he guided the hand to his behind, stroking his cleft with increasing pressure until one of his fingers glided over the puckered hole.  
  
”  Fuck this,” he whispered as a dozen shivers circled his body at once. It was years since he'd done this. Maybe he was too old now? A small nervousness tried to make him change his mind, but he was stubborn. He could endure a bit of pain, couldn't he? The finger traced over the hole again and he arched his back and let out a moan he couldn't keep back.  The sensations were overwhelming as he pushed a finger inside of himself. Only the tip, millimeter by millimeter. It didn't particularly hurt, but it felt uncomfortable. He knew that was just the start.  
  
He only then realized he'd been holding back his moans and grunts, as if he didn't want anyone to hear it. Wouldn't it be a lot better to let the sounds out, let Vegard know what he was missing out on? With a bit of luck he would manage to attract Vegard's attention, and the older brother would come in and find him sprawled out on the bed, legs wide apart and fingers inside of himself. He imagined the face Vegard would make at that. That would certainly be a sight.  
  
No matter how loud he was, how mouth watering his sounds were, Vegard wouldn't come to him. As it made him pissed and frustrated, it also made him slightly relieved. What would his brother say if he actually walked in now? Could it be that there was a line he wasn't allowed to cross? Well, aside from the obvious one they had crossed already,  though that had been the two of them together .  He didn't know what Vegard would think of this, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to know, if the consequences would lead to something disastrous.  
  
He was so hard and aroused that by the time he had eased his whole index finger into himself, through stinging pain, it only took him two  back-and-forth movements until he nudged his prostate and a searing wail left his lips. It was what he had been waiting for for so long, wanted for many years but never been brave enough to try out. His lips emitted breaths like he had just run up a long slope, and his feet felt powerless as if he had worn boots of lead.  His wide eyes studied the ceiling and his flushed features grimaced slightly as he pulled out of himself, leaving an empty and slightly used feeling lingering. A dirty feeling. Vegard's words came back to him.  
  
\- - -  
  
Vegard could hear the moans, oh yes he could. He knew exactly what kind of tricks his brother was pulling on him, and it made him even angrier, if that was possible at all. He wanted to shout at the top of his lungs, let a little of the pent up frustration and emotion and _ everything  _ out. It was getting so damn hard for him to breathe these days, and sometimes he just felt like everything he did led to an even worse outcome. Most of the time it was a trapping continuum of his own bad choices and actions, but at times, like now, it was caused by Bård – which made him feel even worse because he should have stopped his own little brother from making decisions that could ruin them both. He couldn't take the responsibility of seeing Bård destroy himself, much less than he could handle seeing and feeling himself falling apart. He should have told him no.  
  
But he hadn't. Instead he had let Bård lead him astray. Did the boy even know what he was doing most of the time? Did he even acknowledge the severity of their actions?  
  
But Vegard couldn't blame Bård for this. The fault was entirely his own, had been since the beginning. And now he had taken another wrong step on the weak ice, enough to send one of his feet through it and into the icy blackness underneath.  
  
He had taken his brother's mouth by force, against Bård's will, and there was not a single thought or word or  action that could make up for the piercing wrongness of what he had done. Now Bård was in his bedroom, presumably on his bed, indulging in bodily pleasures, right after the nightmare that had played out between them, between the big brother and the little brother. Vegard didn't know where to go now, didn't know what to do. His thoughts tore him to shreds as wild moans filled his ears. He wanted to cry, wanted everything stop hurting, to just go away. The love, the fear, the guilt, everything.  
  
The fever had risen to new heights, he felt it in his heavy limbs. Perhaps that was what messed with hi  s head , but before he passed out one last thought drove through him with a slaying power. Another  merit on the list of things he would never forgive himself for.   
  
_ If I could wish you away, I would. That would have been easier for us both. _

 


	19. Love and other Jokes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to everyone who left lovely comments on the last chapter! I really wanted to answer them all but I just couldn't find the time or strength with everything happening right now. I have read them and loved them all so thank you a lot and I love you all!
> 
> This chapter is pretty short and probably the last one before the Bergen concert, so prepare for a pause.

Tired.

Was that an emotion? No. It was more present, more concrete. It was either there or not, and you could cure it. If you had the time, that is. Tiredness was no emotion, it was much unlike any emotion actually. It was much unlike love.

Love was an emotion. A tiring, draining emotion that dragged him down to the bottom pit of Hell at times. There in the VIP area of the Netherworld he could then squirm around in misery and self-pity and self-loathing. As sharp-horned devils offered him beverages, he took them and washed them down in a single go. He knew they were all poisonous, but he wouldn't turn them down. Maybe it was some built-in self-destructive thought in him, he wouldn't be surprised honestly. All he wanted sometimes was to punish himself for the awful thoughts that crossed his mind. So as he found the Devil behind himself, keeping his hair out of his face as he puked out all the contents of his poor stomach, he couldn't find it in himself to feel sorry for what was happening to him.

The worst about it was that he couldn't wish it away, he couldn't quell it, he couldn't adjust it. It was all out of his hands, and he had no control. The icy road underneath his worn tires was deceptive, mocking him as it pulled him into the ditch without any warning. Again and again he fell, crashed and rose from the ashes only to be swept back into the vicious cycle after a moment of unsound bliss. All the feelings of happiness or safety were empowered by something strange to his body. They only existed whenever Bård touched him, whenever their legs nudged swiftly under the table, or their shoulders brushed as they passed each other in a doorway. He felt joy when he should have felt indifference, he felt love when he should have felt irrelevance.

The more he lost control, the more addicted he became to these moments. It messed with his head until he wished his mind to shut down completely. Vegard was a bit of a perfectionist, he would admit that without a second thought. But it was in a scale he benefited from. It made him effective and precise in work, careful to get everything right. It was another thing he and Bård shared, actually, though he would say Bård was even more of a perfectionist than him. It was good, they could understand each other, things would work smoothly. It was only when things went in the wrong direction that Vegard found himself kind of tied to a caravan which took him farther and farther away from where he felt at home. He needed the control, needed to have his life plainly laid out before himself. When that was impossible he had to find something else to control.

That was why he had sneaked out one morning when Bård still slept. The prickling cold air that met him outside barely made him feel any better, though it washed away the last remnants of the flu which had held its end of their unestablished contract for almost two weeks. He was happy to finally ditch it for good.

He had walked down the street, shoulders lifted to protect his freezing ears and his hands in his pockets. When he stepped into the little shop, Bodil the saleswoman had greeted him with a wide smile as she reached to put up some goods on the highest shelves.

”What would Mr Ylvisåker want today?” She had asked as she clapped her hands together, done with filling out her shelves. ”Anything special for my boy?”

”Kind of,” Vegard had laughed slightly nervously, trying his best to return her big smile. It had been long since he'd done this, and he felt vulnerable and out of place. ”I'd take a pack of smokes.”

”Cigarettes?” She'd half-jokingly shrieked. ”You're joking? You don't smoke, do you Vegard? That's not very good.”

”No, I don't...” he mumbled and avoided her eyes with an awkward smile.

”Oh, I know what this is,” she said with a new cunning hint in her voice after she studied him for a second. ”You have a girlfriend, don't you, and you're buying smokes to her. I see your shy little smile there, I know these things.” Vegard's eyes widened as they shot up at her in surprise, and she winked at him cheekily.

”N-no, that's not...” he stuttered and cleared his throat, swiftly looking around the shop for other customers. An older lady and presumably her granddaughter were curiously peering at him from behind the vegetable counter. He lowered his voice. ”I just need a pack of smokes, okay? I don't smoke, but... I need a pack.”

”Alright,” Bodil nodded and looked at Vegard with an evaluating gaze. The dark haired man felt like a boy being judged by his teacher. ”Alright.”

Vegard had exited the shop with a small pack in his hand. He had looked at it, examined it in his hands for a while, opened it even, but in the end he tucked it into his pocket. He didn't smoke. He was in control.

\- - -

”Where have you been this early?” Bård's sleepy voice greeted Vegard as he shut the door behind himself, sniffling as his nose was runny from the winter air. He hung up his jacket and rubbed his hands together to regain warmth.

”Early?” he laughed as he walked into the living room where Bård was lounging on the sofa, eyes closed and hand behind his head. ”It's eleven o'clock, Bård.”

”Your point was?” He cracked one eye open and peered at his brother.

”Nothing,” Vegard sighed and cocked his head to the side with the tug of a smile on his lips. ”You're so impossible,” he said. _Impossibly cute with your hair ruffled up like that._

”Mmhmh.” Bård shut his eye again.

”Anyway, I'm gonna make us breakfast.” Vegard made his way into the kitchen and opened the fridge. ”You want scrambled eggs?”

”Yeah,” Bård grunted unenthusiastically.

”Yeah, _please_.”

”This is why I'm the cooler one of us,” Bård said as Vegard put the frying pan on the stove and cracked the eggs. ”You just sound lame.”

”I guess I'm bound to be the lame one,” Vegard admitted, purposely avoiding to pour petrol into Bård's playful flames. ”You're the younger one of us. The _hip_ one.”

”Oh God, that sounds so wrong.” Vegard could hear how Bård rose from the sofa and walked over to the kitchen. Vegard's heart beat only a little faster as he stood in front of the stove, frying the eggs, and suddenly felt a hand coming to rest lightly on his hip. He could feel Bård pressing up to him from behind, and tingles moved through his body as blood sprung to his cheeks in widespread flecks. He felt content as he stood and stirred the eggs on the hissing pan, while Bård's head came to rest at his right shoulder and his arm wrapped all the way around Vegard's waist. He could feel Bård inhaling his scent with deep and sleepy breaths.

”You smell awful,” Bård murmured and pressed his nose deeper into Vegard's dark curls. The older brother grinned, knowing it was a compliment. A Bård kind of compliment.

These new displays of affection were a new thing for them, giving way to a side Vegard had never thought either of them would have or show, though Bård's soft side tended to be most prominent at morning when he hadn't quite woken up and gotten into the rhythm of the world yet. His sleepy eyes and ruffled hair and the slow movements and lightly snuffling breaths from a long night's sleep made Vegard feel a whole wide range of emotions. Mornings were quickly becoming his favourite time of the day.

It was only when Bård detached from him that he felt the longing creep back to him and sadness stir in his bones. The guilt fell on him like a nighttime shadow when Bård turned his back to him. The guilt for loving his brother, for keeping him hostage in his heart. It gnawed on him with razor-sharp teeth.

”What do I smell of?” he asked silently and smiled, happy that Bård was there. Bård squeezed him closer to himself for a moment and drew in a long breath. His nose touched the back of Vegard's ear and the older brother could swear he felt Bård's lips quirk upwards against his skin.

”Sweat and bad jokes,” Bård mumbled and kissed the tip of Vegard's ear tenderly. ”Really bad jokes.”

”Is that so?” Vegard asked with a grin and Bård hummed an answer against his neck which made him shiver. ”I think I've done pretty good with my _bad_ jokes on my career. At least until this point.”

”'Cause you have me to back you up,” Bård said nonchalantly and kissed Vegard's neck lightly. ”Without me you'd be crushed to the ground.”

Vegard knew Bård was joking, at least halfly, but his words still stung in a real way. It was true, Vegard wouldn't be where he was without Bård's talent or thirst for comedy, and even more so without the younger brother's inability to let go. Vegard almost felt like he was abusing his brother's success by hijacking a part of it, though he knew it had been Bård who wanted them to work together. He should have ushered Bård towards an own independent career like a responsible older brother. Only God knew how far the man could have gone. Vegard knew Bård's biggest dream had always been to become know all over Norway and the world for his comedy. But where was he now? Stuck with his older brother and his bad jokes, vaguely known and mistaken for a drug abusing guy with nothing but a fox's sounds on his mind. How fucking fantastic wasn't that? If only Vegard had convinced him to pursue his career alone. But Bård had been as stubborn as Vegard had been unenthusiastic, and it all had led to this.

”I'm sorry,” Vegard whispered almost soundlessly and was surprised by himself. He hadn't meant to say anything out loud. Hope let him believe Bård hadn't heard him for just a second, until the younger brother behind him kissed his neck again and asked,

”What?”

Vegard wondered what to say next. Should he brush it off as nothing like he'd done for so many years, just continue letting his guilt nag on him, or let the pressure out, share it with his brother and probably cause a scene. Why couldn't life be easy for once?

”I'm sorry,” he said louder and cleared his throat. Bård wen't slightly stiff behind him, and he immediately recognized the cautious stance in Bård's body language even though he couldn't see him. He knew he had done a mistake. Bård wasn't one to talk about feelings.

”Why?” Bård asked coldly.

”Just in general,” Vegard muttered and flipped the eggs on the pan. ”For being a shit brother.”

”I don't know what you mean,” Bård said in a monotone voice. His arm was slowly loosening from around Vegard and withdrawing. The older brother could almost hear – almost _feel_ – the little voice inside his head whispering;

_He didn't confirm it, but neither did he deny it._

”You know what I mean,” he sighed. ”You always know what I mean. Even when I don't know what I mean.” Bård took a step away from him, and immediately the weight of everything fell on Vegard again. ”I'm a shit brother, doing shit things brothers shouldn't do.”

”Can we talk about something else?” Bård tried and peeked into the fridge to escape his brother's erupting thoughts and feelings. ”We need to buy more milk.”

”Don't try to escape this, Bård. I'm not trying to argue with you. There's nothing to argue about.” He flipped the eggs again, almost angrily, before putting them on a plate. ”And we need to talk about these things some day, you know that. What are we doing...?”

With that he turned to his brother, trying to catch his eyes to really deliver his question, but Bård was determined not to let his brother inside his head. He only stared at the fridge without really seeing anything, his mind going blank as panic washed through his body. What was he supposed to say?

”We're out of ketchup too,” he announced finally, voice lacking clarity and content.

”You're fucking unbelievable.” Vegard slammed the plate and its content on the kitchen sink with a loud crash. Sharp shards scattered across the floors and lay out like mines between them, waiting for flesh to bite into. Vegard disappeared from the kitchen.

”What the fuck is wrong with you?” Bård shouted after him and jumped over the shards. ”You're cleaning up this mess, d'you hear me!”

”How about I clean up your messes first? Do you fucking see our situation or are you completely blind? I'm so fucking tired of fixing your fuckups, Bård. So fucking tired.”

”I don't know what the fuck you're talking about.” Bård's voice was loud, threatening, but Vegard wasn't scared.

”Don't talk bullshit, Bård,” he growled through gritted teeth.

”What bullshit? What fucking messes are you talking about? I haven't fucked up anything! You're accusing me of something I haven't done!”

”Shut up.”

”You fucking shut up! Quit being so cryptic and tell me what I've done wrong so I can change it!”

 _Change it?_ Vegard thought with furious amusement. Bård wouldn't change for him. Bård was a rock, solid and impossible to move. And when he happened to be in an inconvenient location in Vegard's life, he was bound to cause trouble.

”I can't do this,” Vegard mumbled and massaged his brow with his palm. ”I can't fucking do this. You never want to talk. I need to know where we stand with things. I need to know your thoughts. I can't -”

”If you don't fucking like this then why are you doing it? Why don't you tell me to go to hell then?” Bård was shouting at the top of his lungs, his arm stretched out in a wild gesture and his face red by anger and frustration. Vegard glared at him, wanting to say something mean, but he couldn't. His eyes broke the contact between them and he looked to the ground, feeling shame washing over his neck as a hair-raising wave, taking away all his anger and only leaving a trail of embarrassment and defeat.

”Because I love you,” he mumbled after a moment and shook his head. Bård didn't say a word. The world had stilled when Vegard finally gained enough courage to look up and meet his brother's gaze halfway between them. He crossed the distance between their forms with his eyes, and something powerful lay in his voice. ”Because I love you, Bård. That's why. That's what's destroying my life. I love you.” It was Bård's turn to turn away his gaze, and Vegard saw how his brother swallowed as if his mouth had gone dry. The younger brother stood hunched up as if a heavy rain was stabbing his shoulders, and Vegard though maybe he had finally broken his brother down. He was about to continue talking when a low rumble rose from Bård's lungs. Vegard looked at him, horrified and angered beyond a range he could react in, as his brother laughed at him.

”Am I a joke to you?” Vegard asked weakly, his mind stomped to the ground and hurt. ”Am I a joke to you?”

”No,” Bård laughed and didn't look him in the eye. ”Love's a bloody joke.” Bård went over to the couch and sat down. His hand plowed through his hair and he sighed. ”Love's a joke if it's what's doing this to us. How can it bring us together and tear us apart at the same time? That's just stupid. This is some comedy shit.”

They were silent for a while, listening to their breaths circle the room in the aftermath of the storm that had stirred their spirits into a burning dance only moments before. Calm settled as Vegard sat down beside his brother. They sat slightly apart, leaving enough room between them to be acceptable for two brothers. Vegard wanted nothing more than to kill that space, kill what made them normal, because they weren't. At least Vegard wasn't.

”I do love you,” he whispered and put his hand on Bård's where it rested on the fair haired man's thigh. Bård watched their hands for a while and bit his lip slightly. Then he turned his head to seek for his brother's soft brown eyes. Their lips met lightly as Bård leaned in, and they kissed until Bård's breath hitched in his throat and he pulled away.

”I'll be damned if you wont be there when I go to hell. This is all your fault,” he whispered and earned a lopsided smile from his brother.

”We might be in hell already,” he breathed against his brother's lips before they connected again.

Their kisses spread out on their bodies like the shards on the kitchen floor, sharp and scattered all over. The marks and tingling sensations would be gone soon, just like the shards, but the memory would linger.

It later crossed Vegard's mind that hell might not be the worst place to be in, at least not if Bård was there beside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And once again thanks to everyone who bothers to read this story! You guys are gold <3


	20. Bittersweet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been super long since the last chapter and I apologize! I had a hard time finding the inspiration to continue writing, but luckily it sparked again a couple days ago.
> 
> PressureWife wrote a comment on my last chapter about how she'd describe the story as bittersweet using only one word, so I named this chapter that!
> 
> Warning: If you are sensitive or afraid of plane crashes, tread carefully! It's not a major thing in this chapter though.  
> I also don't know shit about planes and only bothered to do so much research, so I hope that part is at least half-decent.

It shouldn't have been a big deal. It was Vegard's own fault, he was the one who blew it out of proportion. It was fucked up enough that he could utter the words with ease, so why was he so adamant to have his little brother give in to the sweeping truth too? No, he was a mad man. It was a good thing that one of them could keep their shit at least remotely together. Yes it was.

It still bothered him.

”I love you,” he said gently and patted Bård's head which lay at his bare chest. As always he could feel Bård momentarily tense up, then relax again. Vegard had often thought about what that meant during mornings like these. They shared a bed, shared an apartment, shared a life, yet still his brother was extremely reserved each time Vegard brought up anything regarding feelings, and especially when he put his love into those three words. It was almost as if they hurt the younger man, and Vegard didn't know why he kept pushing it. He didn't want to hurt his brother, but leaving it unsaid would have ended up with himself burning and hurting, and he could not even take the thought.

”Do you love me?” The words disappeared into the still sleepy air in the bedroom. Bård tensed again, ever so slightly, and relaxed.

”Mmm,” Bård murmured against Vegard's skin. As always. Vegard kept getting that as an answer, and while it didn't hurt as much as silence, it still affected him tremendously, leaving him naked in front of the fire of ignorance. 'Mmm' could mean so many different things.

Vegard had always been content enough with that, never dared go further. It wasn't worth risking it, in theory. He thought he'd get a real answer one day, but he had overestimated his own patience. As the days rolled forth he became desperate to hear it, or at least getting an answer to why Bård wouldn't say it.

”Why don't you tell it to me?” he murmured and stroked Bård's hair lightly. The younger brother tensed up again, and Vegard began to think it was an automatic reflex which acted every time Vegard spoke in bed.

”Tell you what?” Bård mumbled silently, with a careful restraint in his voice. Vegard huffed, and Bård's head bounced slightly as the older brother's chest deflated quickly. _So he's deciding to play this game again_ , Vegard thought.

”That you love me. I'd like to hear you say it.” Vegard tried to heave his point as carefully and gently as possible, knowing he could potentially crash everything.

”I don't really...” Bård's words disappeared into an incoherent mumble. Silence crept back over them like a single dark cloud on a clear sky. Vegard didn't know what to do.

”I'm not judging you in any way, you know? I'd just really want to hear it, to sort of verify-”

”But why do you need to do that?” Bård asked with a sudden sternness to his words. Vegard looked at the ball of hair on his chest with a befuddled expression. ”Why do you need me to verify it? Isn't it enough that you know it?” He moved, got away from Vegard's hand touching his hair, and scooted over to his own side of the bed. He avoided eye contact with his brother, but his brow was wrinkled with either irritation or bitterness. ”Am I really that hard to believe?”

Vegard got up on one elbow and looked at Bård for a moment. The younger brother's face shone a kind of sadness that could have been mirrored by Vegard, had he shown his own feelings by facial expressions. Vegard reached out a hand to touch Bård's cheek, but the younger man shied away, leaving Vegard feeling rejected and unwanted.

”Of course not,” he whispered as his eyes rested on his younger brother. Bård looked sad and annoyed, and Vegard damned himself for pushing it. ”I trust you. You know that. I wouldn't be here if I didn't trust you.”

”Whatever,” Bård mumbled and rolled his eyes. It took him half a second to rise from the bed and pull on a pair of sweatpants. Not a single glance to explain anything was given to Vegard before Bård disappeared out through the door to the living room. The older Ylvisåker looked stupidly at where his brother had gone, before he sighed. He felt so empty and helpless, not knowing how to handle his brother. Bård's mood seemed to vary greatly from day to day, one day Vegard could mock him and boss him around and he would happily comply to anything, and the next he would get upset by Vegard's breathing. Vegard flopped back on the bed and shook his head, drawing his hands through his mess of a hair. He needed a break so badly.

\- - -

Vegard had cooked them food that day, or had attempted at least.

He had been making chicken fillets and sauce, and while he waited for them to finish up in their respective pans, he had stirred the sauce, absent-minded and aloof, and scrolled news on his phone. An article about a recent plane crash had caught his attention. A plane had gone missing in South America a couple days ago, and the investigations had only just begun.

An indicator light had failed as landing preparations were being done on an LATAM Airlines Group's plane, and it had attracted the crew's attention, leading to lacking supervision of route and altitude. The crew hadn't informed the air traffic control about any of their problems, probably deeming it an unworthy note. Vegard nodded seriously to himself, human mistakes were always part of the accident. Despite the autopilot setting being on, the plane had mysteriously lost control as well as encountered full communication failure with the air traffic control, leading to a crash into Monte Pissis as it was crossing the Andes to land at the Cerro Moreno International Airport near Antofagasta in Chile. Vegard had read about the incident a couple days earlier when it had only just happened, and he had thought it an interesting case. Not all bodies had yet been found and the plane had been scattered all over the mountain side and the 'black box' had been hard to find. Originally communication failure had been blamed, as the air traffic control at Cerro Moreno International Airport had lost the link to the plane, as well as its information on their monitors. However now both the flight data recorder and the cockpit voice recorder had been found and the investigation was well on its way. It appeared to be another case of sudden and severe turbulence, and with the crew not concentrating on what was necessary, the plane had gone into a stall and crashed into the mountain side it was supposed to pass south of.

Vegard's eyes scanned the screen on his phone furiously, moving from side to side. He was completely consumed by the text and he took in every detail he could get. He didn't notice how his stirring movements ceased until the sauce spat at him angrily, staining the hem of his shirt with an orange substance. He jumped to life again, tearing his mind away from the aviation world.

”Shit...” he muttered after observing what was going on on the stove for a fraction of a second. The chicken was burned and the sauce had turned a too dark shade, and brown burned pits were floating around in it. Defeated, Vegard moved the pan and the pot from the stove, cursing silently under his breath, and turned off the heat. He drew a hand through his locks and heaved a heavy sigh, then glared at the food, as if it would make it un-cook itself.

Of course Bård was a sullen prick and refused to eat anything at all, even though Vegard tried to offer him the pizza he had stocked in his freezer, and even the rest of the chocolate ice cream he had bought for them a couple days ago. In the end he had to give up, he knew Bård was stubborn and would demonstrate his feelings towards Vegard failing something by boycotting it altogether. So Vegard ended up eating alone in silence, and occasionally his unenthusiastic cutlery clattered towards the plate as he cut yet another horrible-tasting piece of chicken. As he took his five bites in total before having to stop for the danger to throw up, he thought that maybe it was a good thing Bård had refused to even taste it. He could have ended up being shouted at or mocked or ignored even more.

\- - -

The day had been pretty much one big fuck-up from sunrise to sunset. Luckily the sun went down early as it was the middle of winter. A dark January evening fell on Oslo, and all the stars had fled the sky. Black clouds sent down single white emissaries falling over the almost eerily quiet city. Not even the wind entered between the sturdy buildings.

Vegard had gotten tired of Bård's sulking, and went out for a walk. He wasn't too infatuated with Oslo, nor did he particularly like walking in the city. But he couldn't get Bård to eat while he was in the apartment, and he suspected strongly that it had nothing to do with lack of appetite. Bård just wanted to show how stubborn he was, how he wouldn't give in in this unrequited game of his. Vegard had a strong feeling that when he would return, his fridge would be considerably more empty that it had been when he left.

He gave Bård a good hour or so, and walked around on the dark streets, occasionally chasing away snowflakes from his curly hair and blowing his red nose. His hand constantly fiddled with the pack of cigarettes which still was painfully present in his pocket.

He hadn't touched it for two weeks after he'd bought it, but one day had been particularly rough, with Bård acting up and Jørgen calling him to shout at something he'd forgot about long ago. He had sort of flipped, gone completely silent in the middle of an argument with his brother and just grabbed his jacket and slammed the door behind his back. He had sat down on the small stairs in front of his house, feeling slightly embarrassed about not really having anywhere to go despite his furious exit. But really he had been too angry to care.

He wasn't proud of it, but he didn't really find it in him to feel ashamed or angry at himself. He had only smoked half a cigarette. That wasn't too bad, right? Actually he felt as if he had earned it, in a way. His bull-shit-o-meter had filled and gone ' _pling!_ ', earning him a round of self-pity and a few breaths of poison.

He rounded a corner, almost collided with a young woman who was carrying heavy bags in her both hands, apologized silently and continued strutting along. His hand had opened the package and was squeezing one of the tubes lightly. Should he? It had been a week since the first.

He walked a couple blocks more, stopped, pulled out a cigarette and an age-old lighter he had had in his pocket for God knew how long. Small puffs of smoke left his lips and made their way through the freezing air and into the sky. Vegard leaned against a wall and thought about his life choices.

\- - -

When Vegard entered his apartment again he found Bård standing at a window in the living room. For a second he panicked that his brother had seen him smoke, but he realized he had been behind a couple buildings, nowhere in Bård's possible range of sight. He sniffled loudly and threw himself down on the couch, expecting to attract Bård's attention. The light haired man stood put.

”What are you doing?” Vegard asked after a moment, with an intended annoying tone. He was done with Bård's bad temper and couldn't care less about tip-toeing around him anymore.

But to his surprise Bård's voice was calm and neutral.

”Nothing.” There was a pause, filled with bewilderment on Vegard's part. Then Bård continued. ”What were you doing outside?” Bård seemed to be rid of all irritation from earlier, and Vegard was slightly befuddled. He reasoned it had to be the food Bård had supposedly been ridding Vegard's cupboards of.

”Nothing,” Vegard replied silently. Bård huffed and turned around. He was scratching the cast with his other hand, a habit he had grown into. Vegard wondered what he would do when the cast was gone. Bård sighed, and Vegard could swear he saw sadness in Bård's eyes before they turned to the floor. Vegard bit his lip and extended a hand towards his brother. ”C'mere.” Bård looked at him briefly, shyly, and walked over to the couch where Vegard pulled him to his chest. Bård curled down against his ribs, seeking warmth and comfort from his brother. ”Are you still upset?” Vegard asked softly.

”I was never upset,” Bård claimed, but Vegard heard it break through in his voice. He knew better than to push it this time.

They sat in silence for a while, and Vegard couldn't resist the urge to play with Bård's hair. It was smooth under his fingers, though a bit dirty. He would have to force Bård to take a shower soon. God, the guy couldn't live one decent day without someone taking care of him.

”Vegard?” Bård asked suddenly and lifted his head slightly to see Vegard's face. Vegard smiled at him and unwound his fingers from his brother's strands.

”Hm?” he hummed and brushed Bård's cheek with his fingers. The smoothness of his skin had always intrigued him.

”I just wondered,” Bård mumbled and blushed, sending a happy jolt up Vegard's body. ”If, maybe, if you would...” Bård cleared his throat, clearly nervous about what he wanted to ask. He heaved a sigh and tried again. ”I just though that... Maybe one day we could, um, maybe...” He fell silent. Vegard waited. ”Never mind,” he sighed at last.

”I won't ridicule you for anything,” Vegard said and dipped down to kiss him on the forehead. ”Remember that. You can tell me anything you want.”

Vegard was curious about what Bård had wanted to ask, but he wasn't a person who couldn't live with not knowing something that interested them. He wasn't a very nosy person, and he could wait. Bård could take his time, gather strength, and tell him another day.

Vegard kissed Bård's head, buried his face in the younger brother's hair and drew in his scent, despite his hair being dirty. Bård felt so small in his arms, and he had to grasp on tighter to chase away the feeling of losing his brother. For somewhere in him he could feel it, their tight bond getting stretched and worn, weakening for every passing day, for every communication failure between them, until their plane would hit violent turbulence and crash into an invisible mountain of hurt feelings and failed love. Vegard wondered if there could be any survivors. He wondered if there could be any future for the possible remnants of life, for him and Bård.

”Vegard?” Bård whispered and lifted his head again. His blue eyes defied Vegard's doubts with their flare. ”One day,” he said with a confidence Vegard only rarely heard him use. ”One day I'll be able to say it.” Bård's eyes never wavered. They bore into Vegard like acid, leaving their marks in his mind, marks of trust. One day Bård would tell him how much he loved him. ”I promise.”

”It's okay,” Vegard murmured and kissed him tenderly. ”I'll wait.”

Bård breathed heavily against his brother's lips, closing his eyes and pushing up for more contact. Vegard cupped his cheeks gently, tilting his head into a better angle, and entered his brother's mouth with his own tongue. _How bittersweet isn't it_ , he thought as he panted into his brother's mouth. _How ironic isn't it that the love I've searched for so long has always been so close to me?_

Vegard kissed his brother long while slowly pushing him down to lie on his back on the sofa. Vegard's arms supported him as he was on top of his brother. He parted from the younger man's lips, and Bård's beautiful eyes looked up at him with an innocence Vegard hadn't seen in a long time. He smiled down at Bård and kissed him again, feeling how his brother sighed into his mouth while parting his legs to allow Vegard to settle between them. _How ironic isn't it that of all the kisses I've shared, the ones from my own flesh and blood taste the best?_

Bård gripped the front of Vegard's shirt, holding on to him with a desperate grasp, pulling him downwards as their mouths moved against each other. It was as if their bodies breathed in unison, working on a vow between them, a promise granting them access to each other on a level that should have been way above them. Was it them who has risen up, or the bar that had been lowered down to the muddy bottom with them? Bård moaned underneath Vegard as the older man ran a hand under his shirt. _How ironic isn't it that I have known him all my life, and still I discover new sides of him, ones that are not for me to discover?_

They moved slowly, in the rhythm of the silent world around them. Bård gasped and sighed as Vegard ran his finger over his body, drawing out maps and traces of his careless thoughts, lost on his way across his little brother's skin. The older brother could feel waves of goosebumps washing over Bård, shivers moved through him one by one, like earthquakes and aftershocks, making him arch his back up against his brother. And Vegard responded my touching him with an even greater enthusiasm, thirsty for his bodily responses. _How bittersweet isn't it that I have to lose a brother to gain a lover?_

”God... oh God, Vegard,” Bård gasped and moaned quietly, squeezing his eyes shut and pulling his brother even closer to his chest until Vegard could feel the vibrations from the hollowness under his ribs as he emitted his sounds and heaved his breaths. ”I want you,” Bård moaned into Vegard's curls, his breaths hot and heavy against the black curls. Vegard's hand moved slowly from Bård's side down to his hip, and he could hear Bård whimper with need. He sat up and his fingers fumbled with Bård's trousers, happy that they were sweatpants and didn't require further concentrating to get rid of. Bård whined as Vegard ghosted over his thighs with his fingers, trailing down on both sides of his half-hard member.

Vegard had decided to repay Bård for what he did weeks ago. He still hadn't forgiven himself. Both his thoughts and his actions hung on him like heavy anchors, dragging him down and away from the sunlight. He would never forgive himself for it.

He had never done this though, never even thought about it, to be true. He wasn't all that worked up about having a cock in his mouth, but maybe he could try. Maybe he could grow comfortable with it. He looked at Bård's body, the delicate waist and everything down from there exposed to his hungry eyes, the upper body heaving with an unsteady rhythm, and Bård's head lifted to observe the older brother's actions with round eyes.

Vegard swallowed and brought his head closer to its destination, and he could hear Bård exhale sharply, could see his lower abdomen deflate, could feel him shift up on his elbow to get a better view. The younger brother seemed ecstatic, unable to believe what was happening, and it turned Vegard on very effectively.

His mouth closed around Bård, and the first thing that flooded his senses was the taste, which wasn't as bad as he'd imagined, and second came the heated groan that his brother's whole body seemed to contribute to. Vegard licked at the top, trying to get used to the situation, and Bård seemed to have a hard time staying still. Not that Vegard could blame him really.

It was all uphill from there. Vegard got the hang of it pretty quickly, though he had to constantly remind himself of his teeth being a part of his mouth, a rather dangerous one. He was rather amazed at how far down his throat he could take his brother. His gag reflex set in when the tip of Bård's cock hit the back of his throat, and he balled his hands into fists and squeezed his eyes shut. Bård almost screamed, and Vegard felt a hand trail between his unruly locks. He drew up again and sucked at the tip, causing Bård to buck upwards, and then went down all the way again until his nose buried in light hair.

At some point Bård started moving more, bucking up into his brother's mouth while holding his head gently with his hand. Vegard didn't oppose, he figure he owed it to Bård. As he could stop concentrating that much on what he was doing, he reached down into his own pants and stroked himself hard. Occasionally he would open his eyes to see single black curls draping down from his own forehead, and behind them Bård who was either looking at him with glassy eyes and an open mouth, or head thrown back and back arched in pleasure. He couldn't quite decide which one he liked more.

Bård became more and more out of control, until Vegard decided he'd had enough of it. He grabbed Bård's hips with both his hands and pushed him down, not letting him move. The younger man protested weakly, but continued moaning as Vegard went back to sucking him in the pace that suited himself best. At some point Bård started mumbling something, occasionally moaning Vegard's name. Vegard was curious to know what his brother was saying in his near-euphoric state, but he couldn't hear it clearly from the sound of his own blood roaring in his ears, and the sucking noises which were somewhat unavoidable.

Suddenly Bård let out a high-pitched moan and tensed. Vegard knew he was close, so he pushed down all the way, letting Bård hit the back of his throat so that he gagged, clenched around his brother's swollen flesh. Bård let out a swift-paced blabbering - which Vegard had heard each time they'd had sex, he realized – and came into Vegard's mouth. The older brother regretted it immediately, not liking the hotness of the slimy substance. He couldn't really reverse it though, and ended up swallowing half of it. His eyes locked with Bård's, whose gaze was still absent after the orgasm. Vegard wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and crawled back on top of Bård, attempting to kiss him. The younger brother turned his cheek to him.

”Oh God no, that's just disgusting,” he said, suddenly fully aware of everything again, and pushed at Vegard to make him sit back up. ”Don't even think about it.”

\- - -

Vegard woke up to a strange craving pulling at his mind. It was pitch dark in the bedroom, but despite trying he couldn't fall asleep again. He couldn't remember what his dream had been about, but it had unsettled him.

Slowly he turned around and faced Bård's narrow shoulders. His eyes could barely see anything, but he moved forward and pushed his lips between his little brother's shoulder blades, planting two feather light kisses on his warm skin.

Carefully he made his way through the room and pushed the door open. A softly blue light illuminated the living room with a dreamlike glow, dazing Vegard for a moment. The clouds had dispersed and allowed the moon and the stars to throw in their light through windows to watch over the sleeping. Vegard closed the door to the bedroom to contain the perfect darkness that reigned there.

He felt bad, of course he did. But he felt excited also, as if he was a little boy again, doing forbidden things. His purple shadow followed him as he sneaked to get his jacket before tip-toeing over to the small balcony. One last glance was cast at the bedroom door before he slipped out into the freezing night air. Immediately the coldness bit at his skin, especially at his legs which only were protected by thin pyjama pants. Shuddering hands rushed to the pockets of his jacket, pulling out a cigarette and the lighter from their depths. _Only one breath_ , he told himself as he put the thing to his lips and watched the fire weakly flare to life. There wasn't even hesitation in his moves anymore. _Only one breath._

The warmth of the living room embraced his grateful body as he stepped back in. He hung his jacket back up in its place and went to the kitchen to wash the taste and smell of smoke away with water as best he could. He knew it didn't work all too well, but he gargled for a while anyway. It was surely better than nothing, and besides, Bård was asleep and had never had a very sensitive nose. It would be okay.

He opened the door to the bedroom carefully and peeked in. In the scarce light that fell in through the door Vegard could see the bed and the strange emptiness it radiated. He furrowed his brows. He hadn't seen his bed like that in over a month. Bård was nowhere to be seen.

He rounded a corner in search of his brother and came to find the bathroom door open. The light wasn't on, but as Vegard stepped closer the cold moonlight allowed him to see the back of his brother's figure. Bård was leaning on the sink, watching his own face in the dark mirror. As Vegard stepped into the bathroom Bård's eyes shifted to lock with his. The younger brother looked tired, drained, as if he'd been subjected to something that required both physical and mental strength.

”Bård?” Vegard asked carefully. ”Why are you up?”

Bård shook his head and laughed tiredly. ”I don't want to sleep,” he said, his eyes back to his own again, glaring effortlessly.

”Okay...?” Vegard tried to coax out further explanations by looking at his brother expectantly, but he got nothing. He sighed at last, ”why not?”

Bård shrugged tiredly, avoiding eye contact with Vegard.

”Alright, what's wrong?” Vegard asked sternly and crossed his arms over his chest. ”Explain.”

”Nothing's wrong. I just don't feel like sleeping,” Bård said nonchalantly and scratched his cast.

”I think your body has a different opinion. You look like a wreck.” Bård shrugged again at his brother's words, and Vegard began to grow impatient. ”Bård, it's three in the morning. What are you doing?”

”I could ask the same of you, to be honest,” Bård snapped suddenly. ”I saw you outside, on the balcony. What were you up to?”

Vegard could feel a jolt of guilt tear through his body. Had Bård seen him smoke? No, surely he would be addressing it straight out. Vegard knew what Bård thought about smoking. The younger brother wouldn't hesitate to make it an issue, he hadn't in past years either.

”I couldn't sleep,” Vegard said simply.

”Well you're not the only one then,” Bård huffed. ”Leave me alone.”

For a moment Vegard thought about actually turning around and going back to sleep. But something in his brother's body language told him he was needed here rather than somewhere far away in his own worlds. He stood put, which made Bård even more irritated by the look of it.

”Can you just go away?” he snarled, turning his head down. Vegard wouldn't give in. He was determined to find the cause to this.

”Is this about your face again?” he asked, voice stern and face neutral. ”Because it's-”

”Yes it's ' _about my face_ '!” Bård shouted into the mirror, almost startling Vegard. ”Thank you for putting it that nicely! It's all about my damn face!” He fell silent for a moment, his back heaving angrily as he breathed loudly. Vegard observed him, not sure of what to do now.

”What's the matter?” he asked softly, attempting to approach his brother. ”What's bothering you about it? I can barely see it, Bård. The scar is barely visible.” He put a reassuring hand on Bård's shoulder, rubbing gently.

”That's the thing,” Bård laughed joylessly. ”I can barely distinguish it right now, it blends in. I can't see it.” Bård shook his head and studied his face intently for a long silent moment.

”But...?” Vegard asked carefully.

”But what when I stand on set? What when a thousand eyes are directed my way? What when the cameras capture every moment of me? They'll catch it. They'll catch my-” he bit his lip, grimacing and averting his eyes from his own face. Vegard didn't understand fully, but it was evident Bård's self-confidence had suffered a severe blow.

”It'll be okay,” the older brother almost whispered. ”It'll heal more before we start filming, right? And we have makeup. It'll fix it, Bård.” Bård shook his head, almost violently, and Vegard tried to calm him down by grabbing his shoulder tighter. ”It's going to be okay, we can fix it.”

Bård wrenched away Vegard's hand from his shoulder in a sudden and aggressive motion, then spun to face Vegard with a furious glare in his blue eyes.

”Stop saying that!” he shouted into his brother's face, and Vegard took a couple steps back, as far as the small bathroom let him. ”I don't need to be fixed! I'm not broken, Vegard!”

The sight was almost scary to Vegard. His brown eyes were huge as he looked at his brother who seemed to grow another inch in height as he shouted. Vegard had seen Bård angry before, countless times, but never this desperate at the same time. Instead of strong and big and threatening, Bård looked fragile and near to a definite breaking point.

”I'm not broken..!” he repeated, but this time his voice was barely audible, more of a broken breath, and his face twisted in a rare grimace. One Vegard hadn't seen in years, yet still recognized way too well.

He wondered when his life had turned into a psychological mess. He couldn't seem to pinpoint the exact moment. He couldn't help but wonder if Bård had told him everything that was on his mind, or if his little brother was hiding something vital from him.

Bård fell back against the wall behind his back with a thud, and slid slowly along it to the floor where he slumped down and drowned his face in his hand. Vegard couldn't see the tears, but he knew they were there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again thanks to everyone who reads! And I haven't stopped caring about your comments either!
> 
> And I have absolutely nothing against South America or LATAM Airlines Group, I just had to choose something. I did choose Monte Pissis though because it has a funny meaning in Finnish. Idk if 'fjortis' is used in English speaking countries but in case not you can just google it and that's it basically, if you want to know.


	21. Yours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've rushed a bit to get this chapter ready before I'm off to our cottage for weeks. We don't have electricity at all there so I probably won't be able to update before I get home again, unless I get a chapter ready before I leave, which is unlikely.  
> I have a few updates on how long the story will be though. I've now (finally) written down all my plans on paper for the rest of this fic, and turns out there are roughly 14 chapters yet to come hehe. They probably won't be as long as they have been until now, because now I know what I need to do in each of them. The plot will also start moving forward a bit faster from now on.  
> Anyway this chapter is almost pointless porn, sorry not sorry!

Heated kisses were swapped, chest to chest, their hearts beat towards one another. Half decent words in the form of breathy puffs spread between their lips, dilated pupils beneath lowered eyelids held no other image but the sight of the other. Warm hands slid up and down shivering thighs, over silently heaving sides and across hot skin, intruding any boundaries of privacy. Their bodies moved against each other, fueling their intentions with intimacy and slow pleasure.

It was in that daze that Bård slipped, whether accidentally or intentionally wasn't really known to himself either. Vegard's hands came to an abrupt halt underneath his shirt where they had been roaming his back.

”You want me to _what?_ ” he panted, his mind suddenly entirely sobered from their shared pleasure-inebriated state.

”To fuck me,” Bård leaned in and breathed into his neck before sucking on his skin ever so gently, trying to act unaffected by Vegard's evidently unimpressed reaction. ”Vegard please...”

”No!” The older brother sounded almost alarmed as he pushed Bård away from his neck. The younger brother sat straddled across his legs with a redness across his skin and a look of lust and hurt mixed on his face. ”What the hell, Bård?”

”We can go slowly, if you want.” Bård went in for a slow kiss, which went completely unanswered by his brother. His voice was a mere whisper, a mere breath when their lips parted silently. ”Just... please, Vegard. I really want it.”

Vegard seemed to consider for a second, his eyes closed and he felt the foreign breaths agains his lips. ”No,” he finally answered and swallowed, hiding his confused feelings down under. His brother's posture seemed to crumble and his whole facade somehow cracked. Vegard regretted his choice alreay, though he would have regretted the opposite answer equally, just in another way.

Bård breathed calmly, seemingly zoning out for a second, then faced Vegard's gaze again with newborn confidence. His blue eyes begged Vegard to reconsider, but Vegard shook his head sharply and laughed nervously.

”I'm serious, I can't do that!” he exclaimed. ”I have to draw the line somewhere, I mean – Jesus Christ, we're brothers!”

”That hasn't stopped you before, has it?” Bård huffed and trailed his hand down Vegard's front until it came to stop and fiddle with the hem of his shirt. ”I'm ready for it, I've even been practicing.”

Bård's words sent an involuntary shiver resonating through Vegard's body, raising every hair in its way until it concentrated to the place where Bård's hand was separated from his skin only by thin fabric. He swallowed again and forced himself to focus. He had so many arguments to back up his answer, but why did they all seem to twist out of his iron grip just as he needed them?

Bård's moving hand didn't help either. His long fingers traced slowly over his crotch, kneading gently on the swollen flesh in Vegard's pants. Bård could easily see the battle going on inside Vegard, and he knew his older brother was very prone to giving in to him.

”Bård, don't do this,” Vegard protested weakly as Bård's fumbled with his zipper, slowly pulling it down and emitting a small choked sound as the bulge of his brother's boxers came into his view. Vegard licked his lips nervously, but Bård leaned in to trace his own tongue across Vegard's lower lip before making his brother give in to a long and slow kiss, all the while massaging Vegard's privates with a growing pressure. Vegard gasped into Bård's mouth, involuntarily bucking up in small movements, seeking further touch, to which Bård answered by humming into the kiss.

It was pretty clear to both of them that Bård had set his mind on it, and no matter how much Vegard didn't want to do it he couldn't escape the fact that he also immensely strongly wanted to do it. The thought of it excited him, especially as he already had his brother squirming on his lap and touching him in inappropriate places. He sighed his brother's name into the other one's mouth and let his hands wander again, up and under the shirt, over Bård's chest and his ribs. He felt how Bård's skin got goosebumps under his touch, as if he had the power to change his brother by skin to skin contact.

”Come on, Vegard,” Bård panted, the slightest smirk tugging at his lips. His hand let go of Vegard's shaft and grabbed one of Vegard's hands to guide it down along his body, over his hip and down to his butt where he left it. ”Come on. I know you want to,” he said and snatched the other hand, bringing it up to his face. He felt Vegard jerk underneath him as he closed his mouth around his brother's index finger and sucked at it gently. Vegard looked at him, dark eyes big and mouth hanging open. Bård smirked again and rolled his hips slightly, feeling Vegard's hand on his behind move around a bit. He rocked a bit longer, savoring the small grunts Vegard started letting out, until he stood up suddenly.

”Come, Vegard,” he said silently, almost tenderly – who knew Bård Ylvisåker had such a tone of voice as 'tender'? - with a gentle smile across his bright face. Vegard had to admit he was the most gorgeous being he had ever seen. Bård extended a hand towards his brother and pulled him up on his feet to lead him away to the bedroom.

As he pushed the door open, Vegard felt like he was in the middle of a movie scene. It was all so absurd to him, he didn't find a single word to describe it with. Bård let go of his hand and walked into the room while pulling off his shirt. Vegard watched the bumpy muscles on his back move as he tossed the shirt to the ground and went to work on his pants, which too came off with ease. His brother crawled upon the bed.

”Are you going to stand there and watch or are you going to help me get ready?” The younger brother asked. Vegard could swear he saw a blush flare across Bård's face, and he swallowed heavily as his brother wiggled our of his boxers. ”Well?” Bård asked again, now completely naked on the sheets, but Vegard shook his head sharply, intimidated by the thought of what 'getting ready' could be. Bård only shrugged and leaned over the bed to his bedside table, leaving his butt slightly up in the air. Vegard knew the shit did it on purpose, but he still had to muffle a grunt and sneak a few rubs at his privates before Bård turned around again, this time with a bottle of what couldn't be anything but lube in his hand. Vegard's heart raced as he watched Bård lay down on his back, squeezing out the transparent liquid onto his hand and spreading his legs a bit. He wanted to look away, but something hindered him. He wanted to have a closer look, curiosity was burning inside his head, mixing with arousal, but something held him back again. He stood in the doorway watching as his own little brother spread his legs and stroked himself fully hard before continuing down, squeezing lightly at his balls, then went even further down. He felt his own breath catch up in his throat when Bård moaned the first time, a deep and passionate moan that made Vegard's cock twitch.

Bård writhed and moaned, gasped Vegard's name and put on a show in front of his brother. He eased in his fingers in a steady pace, and it was evident he had been practicing. Vegard didn't know what to do, he feared he was going insane. The whole situation just made him want to hit his head in a wall and pass out. This wasn't supposed to happen, none of it had ever been supposed to happen. He couldn't believe he had been okay with what was going on between them. This was definitely taking it too far.

But it was a captivating thing, how Bård fucked himself, slow and deep, occasionally throwing a glance at Vegard and moaning.

”Vegard,” the man moaned and pushed his scrawny fingers all the way in. His eyes rolled back in his head and he threw it back to expose his neck. ”Vegard please, fuck me.”

Suddenly the older brother stood at the end of the bed, his pants behind him on the floor and his other hand grabbing Bård's ankle to yank him towards himself. Bård yelped and drew out of himself as Vegard's still clothed chest crushed against his and his delicate lips drowned in a violent kiss from the older brother.

In all honesty, what would this change? Vegard already found himself at the heart of everything bad and forbidden. He couldn't possibly sink much further down into the black flames of hell. He was trash already, a part of the fuel for that fire.

Bård clawed at his back with his good hand, tangling his legs around his hips and desperately rutting up against his body. He gasped into the kiss before he turned his head away from Vegard.

”Oh God, please just get to it already!” He moaned while Vegard moved to bite and suck at his neck and jaw. Vegard would have been happy with just getting off by thrusting dry against his little brother, but his curiosity wouldn't let him escape so easily, and to be fair Bård really seemed up to this.

Vegard got up from his brother and climbed properly on top of the bed, settling between his brother's legs again. With trembling hands and a shivering breath he looked down at his brother, who moved underneath him impatiently.

”What now?” Vegard asked breathlessly.

”Now?” Bård half-laughed, half-whined. ”Haven't you fucked anyone before?”

”Of course I have!” Vegard exclaimed and blushed. ”But this... this is a little different, don't you think?”

”What do you mean different? I have a hole and you have a penis, isn't that how it works anyway?” Bård was getting annoyed, but Vegard only blushed harder, not really comfortable with Bård's words. ”Could you just please for the love of God get to it? It can't be that hard.”

”You have no idea,” Vegard muttered through gritted teeth and reached down to grab himself. Fumbling with effort to get it right he guided himself to where he believed the right place to be. Bård gasped under him as he thrust forward a bit, and he could feel how the tip of his cock moved past the tight opening, dragging a choked grunt from his lips. It felt surreal, the sensation was strange to his body, yet urging him on. He pushed deeper and Bård almost screamed under him, but he pushed even further until Bård gripped his shoulder painfully hard.

”Stop, stop, stop, oh God!” he shouted, his face twisted in an expression of pain. Vegard felt a sadistic spark inside his gut, and for a moment he contemplated ignoring his brother's wails.

”I thought you wanted this,” he panted down onto his brother's face. ”I thought you had practiced.”

”I have,” Bård whined. ”I have, just – just let me get used to it!”

It didn't take long before Bård could relax enough for them to go on. Vegard grunted and Bård moaned deeply as the older brother finally was fully inside. Vegard had never felt anything as tight, his whole body shook with pleasure at the feeling of being buried all the way inside his brother's hotness. He began thrusting slowly, and Bård sobbed under him, still in pain but starting to warm up a bit to the feeling. Soon he was moaning again as Vegard angled his thrusts to hit the sweet spot. The older brother decided to take up the pace and thrust harder now that Bård seemed properly accustomed, and he leaned down to bite gently at Bård's neck while pumping into him with shallow but quick thrusts.

”Ahh – oh God Vegard,” Bård moaned and stretched his neck to give more room for Vegard to play around. ”When have you last fucked anybody like – shit! - like this?” His hand had trailed up into Vegard's dark curls and was moving around, messing with the unruly strands. ”Do I feel good? Am I better than all those b-bitches you have fucked?” Vegard replied by biting hard on the sensitive skin on his collar bone, sending a pleasure-mixed yelp from him. Vegard drove into him even harder, slowly making him feel raw, yet giving him more pleasure than he'd experienced in a long time. Bård wanted to keep teasing his brother with his words, but he couldn't form coherent words anymore. Only gasps and whines and moans spilled from his parted lips in streams of sounds into Vegard's curls which lay heavy on his face. Vegard slowed the pace, but slammed into the younger brother with such a force it made up for the loss of speed.

Every brush against Bård's prostate, every kiss and bite on his flushed skin, every pant against his neck brought him closer and closer to the peak of pleasure. He was as hard as ever, and he knew he would come without any stimulation to his cock. Many thoughts haunted his head as he was about to come, and he knew they would all be brushed out of his mind as whiteness would swallow his consciousness. Vegard grunted into his ear, manly and deep grunts, sound which he had never in his wildest dreams imagined to hear before a couple months ago. The hard flesh of his brother pumped into him at an erratic pace, making him more sore at every thrust, but the surging pleasure made up for it in a way he had never believed could be possible. His eyes rolled back and he braced himself for the blissful oblivion that was nearing. He was like a deer in the headlights, unable to escape the thorough destruction that what was chasing after him.

There was something beautiful in the moment, or so Vegard's thoughts told him. He had his little brother at his mercy, submitting to him. They were connected like no pair of brothers should, but it was okay. For this tiny moment it was okay.

Bård writhed and twitched underneath him, clenching around him and making him shoot over the edge only seconds after himself. Vegard's mind was blank of everything, the whole world was washed clean like a shore. The fog in his mind faded slowly, letting streaks of an odd light through. That light was the sound of his brother mumbling words he had heard him utter before, each time they had shared intimacy and pleasure, though he had never understood them. Now they sounded clearly and beautifully in his ears.

_”I'm yours I'm yours I'm yours I'm yours...”_


	22. White Lie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So so so sorry for the super long wait!
> 
> I'm happy to inform that the darling Anitapepita is working on a video for this story, which will be posted on her tumblr later on. I'll tell you where to find it when it's up!
> 
> I also have to point out that I don't know anything about Bård's false teeth and don't know if he's able to take them off or what but this is the solution I have in this story. I've also only done limited research on how the MRI scan works and blah blah I know nothing basically so if I have anything wrong you can blame me.

Bård stood on the burning sand, watched the worst happen before his eyes, unable to break free. Faceless soldiers grabbed his family by their arms and legs and hair and dragged them away into the hot dust while he stood alone, unable to move or scream or cry. The horror of it crushed his lungs and banged at the insides of his head, his heart was racing in time with the thoughts in his mind, but he stood paralyzed like a statue frozen in time. He was a mere ghost of the boy he had been, an empty shell filling with fear and dread, a stuffed animal waiting to be slaughtered again and ripped open to have his heart thrown on the dirty ground. He couldn't escape the fear that clung to him and strangled him slowly, digging into his skin and through his flesh to claw at his bones. He could hear it, the shots being fired somewhere in the distance, ending the lives of his own family. Vegard still called him from somewhere beyond.

_”Bård! Bård!”_

But he almost seemed to be coming closer. Had he been able to break free from the grasps of the faceless men?

_”Bård, calm down!”_

Suddenly Bård shook violently, a tremble went through his body. Was it an earthquake? No, someone had grabbed hold of him. It was his turn to go.

_”Bård, come on! It's just a dream!”_

Invisible hands grasped at him harder and shook him from side to side. His body moved like a wave; he was limp from fear.

_”Open your eyes, wake up!”_

”Vegard,” he tried to call his brother, to tell him to run. ”Vegard, no..!”

”Wake up!”

Bård's eyes shot open and his breaths hung heavy from his lips while sweat trickled down his forehead. Vegard's brown eyes looked down at him with startled alertness, care and compassion, pity even, and it all mixed up into a familiar expression to Bård. They had both been at situations similar to this countless times before, though the last time had been years ago. Vegard still remembered the cure.

”It's okay,” he whispered as Bård's breathing wouldn't calm down, and a tiny choked sob made its way out into the dark room. He gathered his little brother into his arms and held his head close to his chest while gently stroking his hair. ”It's okay, Bård. It's gonna be fix- it's okay.” Gradually Bård's breaths evened out and he fell silent again in the hold of his brother.

\- - -

Bård had seemed almost physically drained in the morning when he'd woken up. His movements were jerky and tired and the skin under his eyes was so dark it almost looked like he had gotten the concept of applying eye shadow wrong. Vegard had had to sit him down and force him to eat something. Bård hadn't downed much, half a banana and some cereal, but at least he'd drank several glasses of water.

As much as Bård's recent behaviour irritated Vegard, the older brother still pitied the younger. Today was the day of his MRI scan, and Vegard was almost sure Bård shook in his seat as they were driving to the hospital. He tried to play it cool and hold up his facade, but tiredness let the nervousness and fear through.

Vegard followed Bård inside to help him fill out all the necessary forms and to discuss with the nurses. He had originally planned on staying in the car and waiting for his brother there as the procedure wouldn't take long, but Bård's state made him want to look after his brother for as long as he could. Bård seemed to have gotten a little more strength from the meager breakfast he had had, but he was still very quiet and reserved. Vegard wanted to go into the room where the MRI scanner was, but that would have been taking it a little too far, so he just sat down in the waiting room and prayed nobody would recognize him. He wasn't in the mood for socializing with strangers.

Bård was given his sedatives. He had to wait a couple minutes before it kicked in, and silently to himself he thought he wouldn't have needed them, he was so tired he would probably fall asleep as soon as he laid down. He hadn't been able to sleep a lot last night, and the little he had slept had just drained him even more. Nightmares always sucked all the strength and power out of him.

”And do you have any metal in your body?” one of the nurses asked him while she checked something on a monitor. Bård blinked, a bit confused.

”Metal?” he asked slowly, as if thinking about it. The nurse nodded.

”Pacemaker, artificial joint, cochlear implant, dental fillings, penile implant. Anything like that?” She asked. Bård wanted to laugh. _Penile implant_ , he thought, _what does she think I am? 50?_ As if he would have impotence.

”No,” he said and the nurse nodded again. ”No wait! I have false teeth. Do they count?”

”Yes, dentures will have to be removed, a lot of them have metal. Do they come off?”

Bård was already on his way to get them out. His hand felt as if it didn't want to cooperate, but he found his teeth in his grasp. The nurse was holding up a piece of paper to put them on.

”That's quite a row of teeth you have missing,” she said. Bård noticed she wasn't really impressed. She worked at a hospital though, so she must see a bit weirder things on a daily basis. ”Is it from this same accident? It seems to have healed pretty well.”

”Oh no, no I trashed my bike when I was eight,” Bård mumbled, cringing at his s-sounds as they were walking over to the room with the scanner. ”I guess I've always been a bad driver.”

The woman chuckled humourlessly and handed him a pair of earplugs. ”The scanner makes some noise, like clicking or tapping if you will, but that's nothing to be concerned for. It's just the electric current being switched on and off. Your radiographer, Reidar Salte, is over in the computer room starting up the system. He'll be able to see and hear you at all times, and you'll hear him. You can just hop up on this now and we'll start.” She patted the bed-like thing and Bård crawled up on it, slightly nervous but relieved to get to lie down for a minute. He took a deep breath and tried to calm his nerves. He was still worried over having to be inside the white tube.

”Good,” the woman said. ”Any more questions?” Bård shook his head and soon she was gone.

He could feel his heart thumping even through his sedated state, and the thought of being left alone to be rolled inside the cramped scanner made him swallow heavily. It took him a moment to realize someone was speaking to him. It was muffled through his earplugs, but Reidar Salte presented himself calmly to Bård. He sounded like a bald and tanned man in his fifties with permanent laughter lines adorning the sides of his mouth and eyes. A rather soothing voice, Bård thought as the bed under him started moving with a humming noise. His range of sight was sealed by the whiteness too close to his face. He felt slightly nauseous.

”Alright, I need you to be really still now. This won't take many seconds,” Reidar Salte said and it sounded like he was concentrating on something. _Far too many_ , Bård felt like saying, but instead tried to relax enough to be able to not move as his tense muscles seemed to want to move on their own accord.

"Good!" Reidar Salte's voice cheered at him just as he thought he needed to tell him to get him out of there. "That's it, good job."

\- - -

Vegard hadn't been able to sit in one place for very long. Slowly he had noticed himself squirming in his seat, his eyes darting around in the room and his sweaty palms rubbing together. It had surprised him really, though in the end he guessed he shouldn't have expected another outcome.

He made his way out through the big doors of the hospital, carefully dodging people in wheelchairs or with crutches. His thoughts wandered as his feet buried deep in the newly fallen snow at every step that took him further away from the hospital entrance. He didn't have much time before Bård was ready so he had to be quick.

Calm puffs of smoke left him to travel up and away. His curly head fell back with a sigh as he leaned on another building a bit away from the hospital. It was amazing how fast he became addicted to it. It was probably wrong of him to hide it from his brother, but what could he do? Bård would skin him alive if he knew.

But Bård didn't skin him alive. In fact his lazy apathy made no effort to communicate with Vegard whatsoever.

They picked up some pizza on their way home - or Vegard did. Bård sat in the cold car and waited, his face turned to the window and ears deaf to everything. Vegard didn't know if it was the sedatives or what, but he decided to give Bård some time. He knew for a fact Bård knew nothing he didn't know, as a radiologist would have to analyze the scan and Bård would have another appointment with his doctor in a week and a half, his case wasn't urgent.

The sedatives wore off completely in the evening, but there was hardly any difference in Bård's behaviour. Vegard was getting worried by now, watching Bård's sulking form as he occupied the sofa. He observed him from afar, leaned on the kitchen door with his arms crossed, one hand coming to fiddle with his lips, and his brow wrinkled in thought. So many thoughts zigzagged back and forth in his head, one standing prominently in the middle of it all. Could it be that Bård was battling depression?

Neither of them had ever really been there, not very severely so at least. Even the thought scared Vegard a little. How would he be able to help his brother if he didn't even know what it was like? Would Bård even let anyone help himself? The younger brother was the kind who would refuse anything and anyone when he most needed it, stubborn and hard to get through to when he decided so, and Vegard worried Bård would end up shutting himself inside whatever was bothering him.

Then again, Vegard didn't even know what was bothering Bård, or if he had anything resembling depression. But he had been on and off happy and moody in a strange way for some time now.

"I'm going to sleep." Bård's voice pulled him up from his pit of dark thoughts, and he lifted his gaze from the floor to his brother who had stood up and was lazily stretching with a yawn. Vegard looked down at the clock his brother had given him.

"It's eight o'clock," he said.

"Last night wasn't ideal," Bård replied with a faint grimace. Vegard nodded once as he remembered how he'd woken up to his brother sweating and tossing around in the claws of his nightmare.

Vegard crossed the room to where Bård stood and draped his arms around Bård's neck, leaned in and gave his lips a chaste kiss to which Bård responded with an innocent smile. Their eyes danced silently on each other's faces, communicating non-verbally, like only they could.

"I'll come too," Vegard murmured after a moment of voiceless transmission of thoughts between them. Bård nodded silently as Vegard fiddled with the collar of his shirt. "I'll take a shower, read for a while. I'm not tired yet."

White lie. Vegard was tired too, they both knew it. But they both also knew that Vegard had no intentions of going to sleep, he'd sit beside his brother, back against the headboard and eyes scanning the dark stillness in the room while his thoughts dated back to similar nights years and years ago. He had to fend off the nightmares and guard his little brother. That was how it was, how it had always been.

The older brother found his protege fast asleep and snoring faintly as he entered the bedroom after a quick shower. He smiled as he crawled onto the bed, looked down at his brother who was drooling on the covers.

"Good night," he whispered and settled into the long silence and let his own thoughts wrap around him.

\- - -

Bård got a phone call two days later. His face went pale as he saw the caller, and his body seemed to go rigid, his jaws clenched.

"I have to take this," he mumbled incoherently without looking at Vegard who sat beside him on the sofa, watching him with alertness and worry on his face. Bård got up swiftly and stumbled over Vegard's legs as he made his way to the balcony.

"It's cold out there," Vegard tried to warn him, but Bård was already outside and bringing the phone close to his ear. Vegard could see how his frosty breath called a hello into the air. He observed him through the glass on the door, saw him nod frequently, saying something every now and then. It was evident the one on the other side of the line talked a lot.

Suddenly Bård's head jerked and his eyes met Vegard's through the glass. They were round and big, hauntingly blue against the white winter in the background. What was that in his expression? Vegard couldn't catch it however hard he tried. Bård nodded quickly, mouthed something which exited him as a white puff and averted his eyes from Vegard's.

Minutes later he returned back inside, cheeks red and fingers frozen. He tucked the phone into his loose pants' pocket and grinned at Vegard.

"Doc called," he said. "Everything's fine."


	23. Lost

Bård explained that for some reason the radiologist hadn't been very busy, and had been able to look at his scan earlier than originally thought, and Bård's doctor hadn't wanted to let him wait a week and a half for his appointment, which wasn't needed anymore.  
  
The following day Vegard woke up late, much later than he used to. The alarm clock on his bedside table glared at him with angry red numbers, yelled a soundless eleven o'clock, and at the same time the sound of the door and shuffling of winter clothes sounded from the hall. The bed was empty save for Vegard as he sat up, and he looked around, confused and sleepy.  
  
Bård's head peeked inside the bedroom. He looked pale, aside from his red cheeks and nose from the cold outside. His hair stood out in every direction, and he looked tired, though his face lit up immediately at the sight of his brother sitting upright in the bed, a huge question mark on his face.  
  
"I bought cake," he announced proudly and hoisted his arm to show a plastic bag which presumably contained said cake.  
  
"What..? Why?"  
  
"It's my birthday," Bård grinned.  
  
"In a month and a half," Vegard pointed out doubtfully.  
  
"Exactly." Bård threw the bag on the bed and Vegard had to dodge to avoid getting smacked in the face. The younger brother's face flashed a grin before he disappeared and headed to the kitchen. "It'll come one day, right?" he called from the other room but Vegard said nothing, only stared at the suspicious plastic bag. "And then we won't have to bother with eating cake and celebrating it because - guess what? We've already done that."  
  
"Your logic is even stranger than you," Vegard mumbled and tried to rub the remaining traces of sleep from his face.  
  
"Or even better! We can have cake again!" Bård's figure returned to the bedroom. His hand clutched two huge spoons, one of which he handed over to his brother as he crawled onto the bed again and attacked the bag. It contained a frozen mud-cake from the store.  
  
Bård twisted and snaked his way around Vegard's attempts to get an explanation. He also refused to wait for the cake to melt enough to be able to eat, and to move over to the kitchen table or even the couch where they would have had a better chance of not making a mess. Vegard tried to point out that he hadn't eaten breakfast yet, to which Bård answered that he hadn't either, and somehow he managed to wriggle out of that topic too. Vegard just looked at him, his light features - now somehow more shining than in a long time - the smile that touched his whole face and his eyes that flickered between the cake and Vegard, and the older brother just let Bård's craziness slide between his fingers and went with it. They scraped bits off the mud-cake with their spoons and shoveled whatever they got into their mouths. Bård talked a lot, anything and everything left his stuffed mouth and made up for the lack of contact between the two in the past few days. Vegard didn't pay much attention to what he was saying, just listened to his blabbering and thought to himself that he had never been as happy to hear Bård talk. Then suddenly, Bård said something that caught Vegard's attention.  
  
"Wait, what do you mean you're going to England?" He asked, his mouth full of cake. Bård shrugged.  
  
"Yeah, I'm leaving on Tuesday."

" _Next_ Tuesday?"  
  
"The plane leaves at five in the morning," Bård said nonchalantly. "Or so I think? Damn, I need to check that..."  
  
"That's in two days!" Vegard raised his voice and was trying to make eye contact with his brother, who just looked at the cake and shrugged again. "Are you crazy? You hadn't thought of telling me?"  
  
"Oh come on, I've done more impulsive things than this, Vegard," Bård said while shoving one last spoon of cake into his mouth.  
  
"Why?" Vegard half-yelled, half-sighed. "What are you gonna do in England?"  
  
Bård shrugged for probably the seventh time, "dunno." He licked his front teeth and looked at Vegard with that cheeky boredom in his eyes, as if he wasn't the slightest bit affected by Vegard's clearly visible frustration. "Just going to London."  
  
"Really?" Vegard huffed angrily. "Really? I don't believe you. What are you up to?"  
  
"Fine, it's a surprise," Bård said and rolled his eyes. "But it won't be much of one if you force me to tell you. Just relax, okay?"  
  
But Vegard didn't want to relax. There was something wrong in the way Bård smiled, in the way he kissed Vegard out of the blue, in the way he stood and looked out through the window for long periods of time, and in the way he avoided Vegard's eyes for the rest of the day.  
  
\- - -  
  
Bård shook his head when Vegard offered to drive him to the airport. He stood in the hall, a small backpack as his only luggage.  
  
"Seriously, you don't need to mother me." He put on his knitted gloves. "I'll just take the bus. It's not good for us to be seen together all the time anyway."  
  
"People will see you though. You and your arm." He nodded toward Bård's cast but Bård shook his head.  
  
"Who is awake at this time of the moring? The few people who dare to poke out their heads of their homes at three in the morning are either on their way to work and very grumpy, or plain lunatic. Nobody will care about me." He tried a smile but Vegard looked bitter and tired, so he cleared his throat and dropped his gaze.  
  
The goodbye was very diffuse, not much more than Vegard's silently judging glare as Bård stepped out through the door and into the eerily silent staircase of the sleeping house. The fusty air seemed filled with a kind of tenacity of purpose from Bård's side, and a dully aching resentment from Vegard's, though he wasn't sure why. Under his skin he felt a creeping jolt as Bård took his first step down the stairs, not taking the elevator as it would disrupt the sleeping pattern of the perfectly still building. It was so real, Bård's form, clad in his thick winter jacket, disappearing down the steep stairs with a backpack on his back as if he was a child going to school while Vegard was left at the doorstep. A ridiculous though, though still frighteningly possible nagged in the back of his head - would he be coming back?  
  
”Will you call me?” he called hastily and Bård turned to look at him. He hesitated a moment, dropping his gaze to his feet, then lifting it to Bård again. His words were disturbingly loud in the silence. ”When you're at the hotel, can you call me?”  
  
Bård climbed back up the few stairs he had taken and walked back up to Vegard, threw his hand around his brother and pulled him close. The hug lasted only a second, ended in pats on Vegard's back before Bård forced them apart again. _A brotherly hug,_ Vegard thought.  
  
”Of course I can.” Bård nodded and their eyes connected. Suddenly Vegard felt embarrassed by their proximity, it was as if stepping outside the apartment walls meant stepping out of their asylum and into an austere world with judging eyes behind every corner. He knew a neighbour could barge out through one of the doors any second. He bit his lips nervously as Bård spoke again. ”But try to think of something else than me for a while. Call Calle, I think he's in town. Hang out with him for a while, have fun, right?”  
  
”Right,” Vegard mumbled.  
  
”I'll call you tonight.”  
  
\- - -  
  
But Bård never called. Not a single sound from Vegard's phone signaled his existence, however near or far away. Vegard had a hard time coming up with reasons he shouldn't worry or care.  
  
He leaned on the cold metal of the balcony railing, looking down on the few people walking in the streets while his cigarette glowed weakly between his stiff fingers. What should he make of it?  
  
Bård was a grownup, he knew what he was doing – most of the time – and Vegard didn't want to take on the role of the protective big brother as a full time occupation. It was energy-consuming enough to have him there twenty four hours a day, but to dare to miss him when he was away – wasn't that a little too much? Swaying that dangerously close to addiction wasn't good.  
  
But still... still there was that echo sighing back at him, Bård's recent behaviour played on repeat in his head. Maybe his brother didn't love him as much as he had thought. Maybe he was stupid for jumping to conclusions like that, but what else could he do anymore? It wasn't like Bård was leaving him any clues.  
  
Warmth enveloped him as he stepped back inside, but it offered him no consolation. His body seemed to repel it and his fingers, stiffened by cold, grabbed and fought to control his dimly glowing phone. He had tried to call Bård twice before, but nobody had answered. Now Bård had texted him back.  
  
 _Stop calling me, can't answer. It's expensive._  
  
That was it. The explanation. Money.  
  
Somehow Vegard had a hard time believing it. Bård didn't care that much about money, besides he ought to have enough to spend on a couple minutes to let his brother know everything was okay. Something was wrong.  
  
Vegard typed a reply, then erased it, typed a new and erased that too. He had a headache, couldn't seem to think straight and wondered how his heart wasn't hammering away like never before. His body seemed so calm compared to the disarray and confusion it was containing.  
  
Bård would be gone for four days, and Vegard felt so incredibly stupid and childish for thinking that those four days could easily stretch out into an eternity. It was all so steadily in Bård's hands, so easily bent and broken if he decided so. How hadn't Vegard realized he was falling deeper and deeper into Bård's control before it was too late? The knowledge that Bård could leave him without a single word made him nervous and scared.  
  
He tried not to think about it, about Bård, and tried to concentrate on something else, only to realize that that was another thing his brother had wanted him to do. If Bård was playing a game, Vegard was dancing entirely along his plans. He went to bed, crawled as far down under his covers as he could get to shut out the world. He cursed himself, Bård, fate, love, anything he could. He almost wanted to feel angry or upset or furious, anything, but his heart kept beating in a steady and calm pace, dull blows against his ribs.  
  
\- - -  
  
He called Calle in the morning, deciding he wouldn't let Bård ruin his life. He would just wait for his brother's next move. For all he knew, he could be entirely mistaken and Bård maybe just needed a timeout. To be entirely honest, they both needed a timeout.  
  
Calle came over at noon and Vegard cooked them dinner while their discussions circled around anything but Bård. It was a long time since they'd spent time together outside of work surroundings, Vegard and Calle, which was sad considering their deep friendship.  
  
Vegard laughed more than he had in a long time, which kind of pained him in a way. He'd spent time with Bård for so long he'd forgotten how to have fun together with him. He tried to forget about his brother, but caught himself glancing longingly at his lifeless phone several times.  
  
”I know you hate getting this question,” Calle said as they were eating, his mouth half full of slightly overcooked pork. ”But what's your dear brother up to?”  
  
Vegard tried to play along, shrugged and huffed a little laugh, ”how would I know what that shit's doing?” And he reckoned it was at least half a truth. Calle seemed content with that.  
  
They continued the evening by opening some bottles of beer, though Vegard quickly abandoned his own, and they seated side by side in the sofa and watched TV without actually watching it. Their discussions naturally gravitated toward the new season of IKMY, or rather the _possibility_ of a new season of IKMY. Nothing had been established, no contracts had been signed and least of all did they know if Calle would be joining. He seemed eager though, as they talked about possible skits, old memories and the half a year old fame of the brothers. Calle was just in the process of reminiscing last year and how they'd always sat at the small table in the office, tired and worn out yet so incredibly happy and content with their lives, and how there always was that little box with different candies and he and Bård used to fight for the best ones. Vegard laughed and remembered how he'd gotten tired of the two bickering and just taken all the candies and dumped them into a trash can one evening, demanding they finally get some work done. Calle was going to add something to the story, but Vegard's phone jumped to life on the armrest of the couch and Vegard reached for it instantly.  
  
”Ylvisåker,” he answered with a smile as Calle's giggles were still dying out in the background.  
  
”Vegard,” Bård's familiar voice dug into his ear and his face turned serious at once.  
  
”Seriously?” he asked annoyed, ignoring the curious glance Calle threw his way. ”You can't just ignore my calls and send me a rude text and then call me whenever you wish. You can't expect me to be waiting for you here twenty four hours a day, okay? That's not how this works. I thought it was expensive.”  
  
”Vegard, listen-”  
  
”Sometimes, Bård,” Vegard paused and sighed, licked his lips quickly and summoned the strength to finish his thoughts and convert them into words. ”Sometimes you need to listen to me.”  
  
The line was silent for too many seconds and Vegard began regretting what he'd said. He had hoped for an apology or some kind of recognition that he was right, but that was a pretty high expectation anyway. Now he hoped for any reaction at all, be it anger or denial, but there was nothing. Bård breathed evenly through the phone.  
  
”Bård?” Vegard said.  
  
”Yeah,” sounded the answer and Vegard heard the rustle of clothes as his brother shifted somewhere far away in another country. ”I should be going.”  
  
”I'm sorry if I -” Vegard tried but Bård interrupted him by saying it was okay. For all his heart Vegard couldn't bring himself to believe that for one bit. Bård sounded anything but okay.  
  
”Bye Vegard,” Bård said hollowly, and Vegard cringed at how final those words sounded.  
  
”Bye, take care.”  
  
He ended the call, severed the connection between them by pushing the red button and sighed.  
  
”It was Bård?” Calle asked and he nodded while running his hand through his thick curls. ”Sounded almost like you two are in a fight. It isn't something to be worried about, is it?”  
  
”No it's fine,” Vegard answered bluntly, suddenly irritated at everything. Fucking little brothers. Just as he'd been able to relax and have a good time with his friend, Bård has to ruin it all. ”Let's just watch this movie and forget about him.”  
  
\- - -  
  
Calle stayed the night and snored faintly on the sofa where he stubbornly ended up after Vegard tried to convince him to sleep in his bed and let Vegard take the sofa.  
  
Vegard found it extremely hard to sleep, and he lay awake and listened to Calle breathing in the other room, and he wondered whether Bård was asleep or also lay awake. He couldn't shake off the feeling that he had interrupted Bård at a critical point, and thus missed something important he was about to tell. Maybe he should try to call his brother? He didn't.  
  
It was the third day of Bård's absence, Calle had gone home in the morning and Vegard sat alone in the kitchen. He'd turned the radio on and done the dishes, hoovered, done laundry and generally cleaned before he'd just sat down and looked around himself. It hit him so suddenly how normal everything was, how quickly he could adjust to a life without his brother. Everything was just like before his life exploded into this huge irreversible mess. He could almost have convinced himself nothing had ever happened, had it not been for Bård's few belongings which he had stuffed into an already full closet, and the scars in his mind.  
  
Half of him hoped Bård would call, the other half hoped he wouldn't. He wanted to apologize for yesterday, but knew he wouldn't be able to bring himself to do that if Bård called. An overwhelming urge to see his brother's face or hear his voice consumed Vegard suddenly, and his hands trembled faintly as he grabbed his phone to search for a picture of Bård. It was only now he realized he had none, not a single picture on his phone of the person he held dearest in his life. He had cleared his phone of all unnecessary photos sometime last autumn, and apparently deemed the few he had of Bård to be a waste of space. He had taken none since.  
  
He could go online and google his brother's name, but that wasn't the same. That was the public Bård Ylvisåker, open for everyone with his lopsided witty smile and his blue eyes staring into the camera while maintaining his public role along with this facade of his, the one that only broke down once he was among familiar people. He had seen so much of that Bård, and it wasn't his favourite.  
  
Suddenly he remembered where he could find Bård's face, and he shuffled over to the bedroom and dug into the closet where he'd stuffed all of Bård's belongings. He searched the bag, emptied its content on the floor and cringed at the few dirty socks Bård had apparently stuffed in there long ago, but couldn't find what he was looking for. He scanned the clothes and books and belongings he'd scattered all over the bedroom floor with a bothered expression on his face and his hands on his hips. _Where the_ _hell_ _is it?_ He thought as his eyes wandered over what little evidence of Bård's prolonged stay at his place that now lay out before him. _He didn't take it with him, did he?_ His gaze trailed around the room, now seeking less and wondering more, and just as he was about to say 'fuck it' and return to the living room to watch TV, his brown eyes fell on what he was seeking.  
  
The photo album he'd given Bård for Christmas lay on the small bedside table beside the empty bed. A jolt ran through his body – Bård kept it there, at his side while he slept. Vegard walked over to the bed and took the album into his hands. He sat down and stared at the cover, breathing deeply as if he was preparing himself for something. His thumb moved up and down on the plastic surface.  
  
Just as he was about to open the thing at a random page, a sharp and familiar signal came from the living room. The photo album was forgotten on the covers of his bed, unopened.  
  
”Ylvisåker,” Vegard answered into the phone. His heart was thumping away faster than the seconds that seemed to drag out into lousy excuses of eternities. It was Bård, he'd seen on the screen, and now he waited for his brother to answer. But there was silence in his ringing ears, save for a breath which sounded faintly through the phone, which meant it was heavy enough to be heard at all.  
  
”Bård... Are you there?” Vegard asked hesitatingly, suddenly worried. ”Are you okay?”  
  
”Is it too early?”  
  
The question was so abrupt and heartfelt and excruciatingly genuine it knocked all sense out of Vegard. Not only the question, but Bård's voice too. It seemed bored in a way, but not like usual. This was more of a melancholic boredom, a gloomy apathy still filled with an underlaying worry and care. It made Vegard uneasy, and he wanted to say something but hardly found any working words within himself.  
  
”Too early for what?” he blurted out finally. Bård sighed.  
  
”Is it too early for us to... for IKMY?” he asked slowly, as if putting a lot of thought into his words, or maybe he put none. A creeping feeling ghosted over Vegard's skin.  
  
”I don't understand. What do you mean? Are you alright?”  
  
”Shut up, Vegard,” Bård said with an irritated sigh, slurring slightly at the end of his brother's name, and at that point Vegard noticed what was wrong. A small relief washed over him, though leaving a trail of unease.  
  
”Are you drunk?” he asked.  
  
”Maybe.” Bård answered nonchalantly after a long moment of silence. He was definitely drunk.  
  
”How many have you had?” Vegard asked. Maybe he should be worried. It didn't sound like there was any other noises wherever Bård was, and he didn't sound _too_ drunk, but one never knew in which ditch the careless little brother would end up in a foreign country on his drunken adventures. Bård took his time to answer, probably thinking through how he would anger his brother the least.  
  
”Does it matter?” He tried to sound superior, but ended up sounding sad and lonely.  
  
”It does. I'm worried.” Vegard tried to sound compassionate, and wasn't happy with the response his try at comfort got, Bård laughed at him and fell into an uncomfortable silence. Vegard shifted his weight on his feet. ”I'm serious Bård, I kind of worry about you. You haven't been yourse-”  
  
”Shut up. Can you just for once... one time, Vegard – can you answer me? Can you? Or do you never have answers, or actual answers at least,” Bård mumbled on for a while and Vegard had a hard time understanding everything. Then as if he'd woken up suddenly, his voice cleared and got louder. ”Is it too early to get the contracts with TVNorge? Or should we not yet... should we wait?”  
  
”You want the contracts for IKMY?” Vegard asked to clarify his brother's intentions. ”Is that what you're after?”  
  
”Yessssir.”  
  
”I don't know... It's pretty early though,” Vegard hesitated, and Bård groaned in inebriated frustration.

”That's why I aaaasked, brother dear!” he shouted sarcastically. ”Is it _too early._ Jesus Christ, Vegard, do we even speak the same language?”  
  
”Sorry, of course,” Vegard sighed while thinking about the contracts. It was only January, and they usually started discussing these things in March. It _was_ a bit early, to be honest. But Bård did sound oddly desperate. ”You could call them, I guess,” he said after a moment of hesitation and trying to look at the situation from a professional view. Then he added quickly, ”but not now. When you're less drunk.”  
  
”Me?” Bård asked, a childish whining undertone in his voice.  
  
”Well I won't do it,” Vegard said, determined not to let Bård manipulate him into it. ”Call Jørgen and see if he's okay with this. There's a lot of work to be done, and if you want it done now you'll have to take the initiative. Otherwise we'll just wait until March.”  
  
Bård was silent for a while, until he sighed dramatically. ”I don't really want to call anyone.”  
  
Vegard could feel a slight irritation hiss through his body like oil on a hot pan. He bit his lip to avoid saying something rude in his frustration.  
  
”Me neither, Bård. But you can't push things you don't want to do onto others like this. If you want something you need to work for it, and not wallow in self-pity and hope your big brother'll come to your rescue and do whatever you want to do at that moment. It doesn't work that way.”  
  
”M'not wallowing in self-pity,” Bård murmured but Vegard ignored him.  
  
”And if you want to have the damn contract right now – which, by the way, probably is another symptom of your never ending vain appearance issues – you'll have to fix that by yourself. I could happily wait another month before even offering the thing a thought, but you seem to be so damn eager to secure your place in the rows of fame and television that that's the only thing you're thinking about. Do you understand how confused I am? Do you? You can't talk about what's bothering you, you won't tell me what's going on in your head and suddenly you go to England! Which, lets be honest, you probably do just for the shit of it!”  
  
”I didn't do it for the shit of it, I'm trying to -”  
  
”Well try harder! I'm tired, Bård. All the time. I try to help you and you never return it. You need to man up and stop pitying yourself and actually do something about what's -”  
  
”Stop!” Bård shouted abruptly, pulling Vegard out of his heated rant and into the consciousness of the impact of his words that was wrapping around them but also severing bonds of understanding between them effectively. Bård's voice sunk into almost a whisper, and he sounded defeated and small, vulnerable. Vegard regretted everything he'd ever said to hurt his brother, but he couldn't apologize. ”I promise you, everyone, I'll be through this. Sooner than you think. Just give me tomorrow, the day after that. A couple weeks tops and I'll be through it.”  
  
”Bård,” Vegard said with a choked voice. _I'm sorry_ , he wanted to say. Why was it so damn hard?  
  
”I promise. I promise. I'm just... just having a bit of a rough time.”  
  
Vegard wanted to ask him exactly what was going on. He wanted to help, to make it better for Bård, to know why any of this was happening. He wanted to know why their relationship was being burnt like this, and whether it was his fault or something else's. But he couldn't produce a sound, it was as if he'd been shut down to protect them both from his exploding temper.  
  
”Okay,” he said at last, and it was probably one of the stupidest things he'd ever said. Such an effortless word, giving no ground to work on this for either of them. What the fuck was wrong with him?  
  
”My plane lands at 12 o'clock on Saturday. Will you pick me up?”  
  
”I told you I would before you left,” Vegard answered. _The question is, do you still want me to, after all I've done to you?_  
  
”Okay.”  
  
A heavy silence fell between them, and Vegard searched blindly for a way out. He knew he should have said something, anything, but he couldn't amass the courage or strength or whatever he was lacking. Bård sounded like he drank something, swallowing deep gulps. Maybe he too was gathering powers to end the call.  
  
”See you soon,” he said when he was done. Vegard replied curtly, but the connection was already lost.  
  
He sat alone in the living room, goalless and surrounded by a pressing, judging silence. He felt anger welling up his throat again, and he wanted to scream but gritted his teeth instead. How could he be so stupid? The frustration and irritation he'd built up and stored inside of himself for weeks – it wasn't supposed to be taken out on Bård, even if the younger brother was a part of the source for it.  
  
He stood up and walked to the bathroom without really knowing where he was heading. His eyes automatically fastened on the sink as the lights flickered to life by his wordless command. Only a couple hours ago he'd ran around cleaning, carefully plucking away every evidence of Bård's existence and locked it into a closet. But as he looked at the two white mugs, each holding a toothbrush, one blue and one orange, he realized he would never be able to fully erase Bård from his life. Despite his unconscious efforts, Bård would always be there. How could he be such an awful brother as to even try something like that?  
  
It was a long time since he'd had any anger management issues, and he hardly noticed anything before his blacked out range of sight started clearing up again. He looked up at the mirror, but his reflection wasn't there. Gleaming shards pooled like shimmering drops of water in the sink, the rest of the pieces were scattered across the bathroom floor. Red streams of blood ran down his shaking forearm as he lifted his hand for inspection. He plucked out small shards and threw them on the floor with the rest of the pieces. _How cliché_ _,_ he thought bitterly as he exited the bathroom without bothering to even turn off the light, _to shatter a mirror in a fit of rage._  
  
He returned to the bedroom, almost stopping in his tracks as he saw the mess he'd made earlier. His eyes followed the periphery of Bård on the floor, until they came to rest on one of his brother's shirts. A simple white t-shirt with no distinctive attributes. He picked it into his hands, felt it between his fingers. It was of a light material, probably used underneath other heavier clothes for extra warmth. Vegard brought it to his face and breathed in. It was recently washed and smelled like any of Vegard's clothes. He threw it back on the floor, now wrinkled and stained with blood.  
  
At what point had he scrapped everything, turned the wheels and started fighting for what he had first fought against? Was it wiser to keep rowing across the ocean without knowing when you'd reach land, or turn the boat and row back where you came from, knowing you probably wouldn't have the strength to reach the shore? Why did he want Bård here now? As more than a brother. Wasn't that exactly what he was supposed not to want?  
  
He stood for a while, just breathing in and out, feeling lost in a tempest that had snatched the map out of his hands. Behind thin walls there was a woman shouting at her boyfriend, a hysterical shrieking. She was crying, telling him to leave her alone but still secretly wanting him to stay. He couldn't remember how many years they'd been like that, and he wondered how they still held together. In another apartment a dog was barking.

He looked around, spotting the photo album on the bed. He'd sat down with it in his lap and started going through it, carefully looking at every photo. He hadn't remembered that both him and Bård used to smile that much. IKMY truly was their thing, or Bård's at any rate. His forefinger traced a closeup of Bård's face, his smile was wide and his eyes wild with joy. His cheeks cast shadows down his jaw and his nose was crinkled by the laughter that was captured into a fragment of eternity.  
  
Maybe he should call Jørgen anyway. Maybe it was worth it if he could see that genuine and unrestricted laughter on Bård's face, even if only once more.

 


	24. Meager Victories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a bitch to write and I'm sorry for the long wait. I'm testing out a new writing style which I'm not sure if it's visible but in case it is I hope it's somewhat okay.
> 
> Also there's gonna be 33 chapters total! I'm not entirely sure yet, it might change, but it's like 70% sure it's gonna be that many.

How do you tell your brother you're not feeling well? It was an issue Bård had fought with all his life, and recently he'd become almost certain he'd fight it for the rest of it too.  
  
His stomach churned as the plane dropped again. It was just turbulence and he knew it very well. His eyes traveled to the window on his left again, down on the masses of water beneath. No land anywhere in sight.  
  
He wasn't scared of flying. That would have been difficult regarding how much he'd traveled abroad since The Fox. It was just that in ninety percent of his trips by plane he had Vegard by his side, grinning like a lunatic as the plane jumped, always explaining what that noise was or why the wings bobbed like that. Bård had never quite understood how much it comforted him before he sat there alone with a weakly lingering hangover in his guts.  
  
The whole trip had pretty much been one big hangover. He'd drank every night, then felt awful and more than guilty in the morning and attempted to wash it away with more liquor. But to his defence he'd managed to wean off the painkillers he'd been popping into his mouth for a long time now.  
  
On his left side there was a child, a Norwegian girl no older than maybe eight, and beside her was her mother, a middle-aged woman with long brown hair and a bright red lipstick on. The girl jumped up and down in her seat, asking her mother questions and kicking the back of the seat in front of her, occasionally leaning a bit over Bård to look out through the window at the sunlight that was reflecting back from the surface of the sea. A very lively girl, one couldn't really claim anything else. Bård didn't mind though, only smiled quickly at the mother as she told the girl to sit in her seat and smiled apologetically at Bård.  
  
”Victoria, let the man have his own space,” she said as she pried the girl away for the fifth time.  
  
 _Victoria,_ Bård mused, _an international_ _name._ Sometimes he wished he'd have one too.  
  
He would have given up his seat and let the girl sit in the window seat, but he really had no desire to sit there himself. And besides, the woman and her daughter didn't seem to have recognized him, they probably didn't even know he was Norwegian too, and he wished for it to stay that way. It was easy to enjoy anonymity, and so he only flashed the mother that same lopsided smile each time she had to order Victoria away.  
  
He leaned his head on the hard wall of the plane, let his eyes open and close in turns, ignoring the chatter of the passengers, the questions of the flight attendants and the humming of the aircraft. He'd only been away for four days, four days he wanted to forget but couldn't possibly, and he had absolutely nothing against returning to Norway. How badly he missed home and the soft covers of the bed, the warm showers and the hair products that smelled familiar, the sound of the kids in another apartment laughing at seven in the morning, and the sound of the toaster almost throwing his bread on the floor. He even missed hitting his toe on the edge of that one inconveniently placed table in the hallway, resulting in him cursing violently and having never-healing bruises on his poor foot. He missed it all.  
  
He thought about it a moment, furrowed his brow and replayed his monologue in his head. Then a smile spread on his face and he turned to look out through the window to hide from anyone who could possibly spot his happiness.  
  
 _Home._ He was pretty sure he'd called it home in his head. It was such an endearing thought, to have a home. He hadn't had one for a long time, but maybe now he did. At least for a while.  
  
”Victoria!” the woman snapped at the girl who was leaning over Bård again. This time he didn't turn to look at them, his eyes scanned the view outside, over mountain tops and evergreen forests coated with a thin layer of white. They were above Norway. They were going home.  
  
\- - -  
  
Vegard had waited at the airport for half an hour, bought a cup of awful coffee, watched the planes land and take off, posed for one or two photos for fans and scrolled down some news on his phone when finally Bård showed up. Curt nods served to accnowledge the other, and they walked outside to the car. It rolled out on the crowded motorway and silence hijacked a ride between the two of them.  
  
Vegard had a hard time keeping his thoughts on the road, though it was the only thing his eyes seemed to fasten on. He couldn't bear to sneak a look at Bård, knowing he would see a tired and sulky face, the expression that seemed permanently carved onto the little brother's features these days. But he needed to get through to him somehow.  
  
”Did you have fun in London?” he asked and cursed himself silently. _What the hell do you think, smartass?_ If there was anything he was sure of, it was that Bård hadn't had fun, whatever he had been up to.  
  
”No,” Bård confirmed Vegard's thoughts. ”But I got it done – what I had to do.” They fell silent again, luckily they were accustomed to it. Finally Vegard chanced a sideways glance at Bård. He was leaning his head on the window like he always did, and his fingers played with the cast on his right arm, tearing at it and scratching it. Vegard bit his lip and looked back on the road.  
  
”Listen, I'm sorry...” he started. He expected Bård to cut him off before he'd have to say something potentially embarrassing and too emotional, but the younger brother didn't react in any way. Vegard hesitated a moment before coming to the conclusion that there wasn't much more to lose. He didn't have much to offer but he tried his best. ”I shouldn't have said some of those things. It was inconsiderate. I'm sorry.”  
  
”Nah don't be,” Bård said dismissively and lifted his eyes from his lap to the road, sniffed once in the way that made the other side of his nose crinkle. ”There isn't much to expect of either of us when it comes to being considerate.”  
  
”You've got a point,” Vegard mumbled as he let the traffic indicator forecast the turn he took seconds later.  
  
”And I thought... Maybe you're right.” Vegard chanced a quick glance at Bård, not quite trusting the oddly careless tone of his words. ”I should call Jørgen myself. I'll do it, maybe tomorrow.”  
  
Vegard was surprised, certainly, but also felt a swell in his chest. Pride maybe? It was difficult to tell. He glanced at the rear-view mirror and over his shoulder, switched lanes and let silence creep between them for a moment before he spoke.  
  
”You really shouldn't worry about that.” He could almost physically sense Bård's mood drop, though the younger brother stayed completely still and silent. A smile spread across Vegard's face though, there was a reason to why Bård shouldn't worry. ”I spoke to him this morning. He's fine by it. Said he'd speak with TVNorge, their people, arrange things.” The small space between them fell soundless again for a while, Bård intensely trying to make sense of what Vegard just had said, and the older brother smiling, knowing the younger would be joyed. Vegard continued, ”he asked whether we have any plans about Calle too – or well, it was I who initiated the question, but Calle was the matter discussed anyway. I told him we'd love to have him with us for another season, which we do, right? I actually spoke to Calle face to face a couple days ago, and he said he'd be happy to join us again.”  
  
”You told me I have to do it,” Bård said with a confused tone and glanced sideways at his brother's profile. ”Did you change your mind?”  
  
”I guess,” Vegard replied with a shrug.  
  
”But why?” he asked hesitantly. Vegard ducked his head quickly, letting some curls fall down to form a wall between his face and Bård's inquiring eyes. Then he dared a smile again, almost certain the other one suspected it all to be a joke.  
  
”Figured I'd be nice once in a while.” He said slowly, as if he was thinking about it, though his lips were still curled upwards, hidden behind a veil of black. He could feel a faint flush at his cheeks as the next thought took form in his mind, and he tried to sound as casual as possible, knowing it would come across a bit awkward anyway. ”And you know... I love you. So there's that too.”  
  
Bård didn't say a word. Whether he was still looking at the older brother or if he'd turned his blue gaze away wasn't something Vegard knew. However, he could imagine the shy smile spreading on his little brother's lips. It ought to be there, he knew him that well. He knew him well enough to be okay with not getting an answer, no _I love you too._ That was fine as long as he could feel it radiating from Bård, that faint red glow on his skin as Vegard caught him staring. Because that was exactly what he did, his hair whipping to the side as their eyes met like a soundless thunder cracking in an idle storm. Brown clashing against blue. Bård averted his gaze, his cheeks flushing furiously as they drove on. Vegard felt triumphant.   
  
”So when's this _surprise_ of yours gonna be revealed?” he asked after an endless amount of lampposts had passed them by. Bård shifted slightly, slumped further down in his seat and looked out through the window to his side, leaning his chin in his hand.  
  
”All in due time,” he muttered.  
  
\- - -  
  
It all went so quickly, somehow brushed past Vegard like a faint breeze through an open door. How his life changed suddenly, a week after Bård had returned home, and underwent some kind of metamorphosis in the wake of a long grey period. Finally he understood how lost he had been ever since his life changed last, since the irreversible change, now that he had found a compass and a map to trace along again. I kveld med Ylvis.  
  
Bård's expression was certainly something to see as he signed his contract in the huge conference room of TVNorge. The childish glee in his eyes, the lopsided smile only a little too enthusiastic to be considered professional. Even Calle, who also was there along with Magnus to sign his part, looked at Vegard's with an eyebrow slightly lifted and an amused smile on his lips. Vegard returned the smile and shrugged.  
  
They went out together afterwards, the four of them. A beer or two was consumed, discussions about this and that were lead, the happiest faces in a long time beaming at each other over a round small table, cheeks flushed from alcohol and laughter. It was great to catch up with each other, with Calle and Magnus. They were some of the brothers' best friends after all.  
  
Everyone seemed ecstatic about the new season of IKMY, not least Bård who immediately started planning skits and music videos and topics to discuss on the show. As hours gnawed away at the evening, he started talking about concerts. The other three played along for some time, until they realized in their exceedingly inebriated state that Bård wasn't joking. He was one hundred percent for doing a concert tour in the summer. Vegard wasn't sure how he felt about it, but he deemed his judgement to be lacking at the moment. He'd have to think about it when he'd be able to read a word without his eyes crossing.  
  
Soft big snowflakes fell from the black sky when the group finally left the bar and dispersed to crash back at their respective apartments. Bård was by far the most drunk of the four, and Vegard had to hold him by the arm to keep him from falling over on the ground giggling. As annoying as Vegard found it, it provided him with a great reason to take the cab and head the same way as his brother. Nobody would question him taking his brother back to his own apartment in the shape he was right now.  
  
”Your hair is really white,” Bård laughed and pointed at Vegard's head as they walked up the short road to the house from the parking lot, or Vegard more or less dragging Bård by the arm. He hadn't seen him this drunk in a very long time. ”It's like dotted with – with pretty much, with many white dots. It's snow though.”  
  
”Yeah I know,” Vegard muttered and ruffled snowflakes out of his hair with one hand. ”Come on, it's fucking cold here.” He pulled at Bård's arm and they stumbled into the stairway. During the few prolonged seconds his brain considered whether they should attempt the stairs or take the elevator, Bård managed to grip his shoulder and spin him around to push him clumsily against a wall. A soft 'oomf' left Vegard's frozen lips before his brother's own mouth crashed violently against his. A short moment of panic, followed by a desperate struggle to get Bård off him, and Vegard's dilated pupils were staring into Bård's as he held the younger brother at his arms' length from himself.  
  
”What the hell are you doing?” he hissed and had to make an effort to pry his eyes off Bård's mouth which was hanging open and breathing out puffs of alcoholic breath.  
  
”Kissing you,” Bård said matter-of-factly and tried to use his body mass to push closer to Vegard again. He pouted as he didn't succeed. ”Want you... lips. Your lips.”  
  
”Yeah?” Vegard had lowered his voice considerably and glanced around nervously. ”But not here, you moron!”  
  
He dragged the younger brother after him, helped him stumble up the stairs and over the doorstep into the apartment. Bård shrugged off his jacket and staggered past Vegard in the narrow hallway and into the bedroom. Vegard tried to tell him to take off his shoes before he climbed into bed or something equal, but Bård's answer was only an unenthusiastic grunt. The older brother shook his head and sighed, bowed down to untie his own shoes and was overcome by a slight dizziness and loss of balance before he managed the task. He'd probably had one too many too to be entirely comfortable with.  
  
He didn't know what he'd been expecting to find in the bedroom, but he wasn't actually that surprised by what waited for him there as he entered. Bård lay face down on the duvets, all clothes on, including his shoes which fortunately were on the floor as the drunk man hadn't even managed to haul his whole body onto the bed. But there had been an effort, clearly, as he had dislocated the sheets in his attempt to climb up before he had passed out. _So much for the kissing,_ Vegard smiled and leaned back against the bedroom door and crossed his arms over his chest. He allowed himself to stand there and just observe his sleeping brother for a minute, maybe two. The narrow back heaved slightly as Bård breathed, and the faintest snoring noises emerged from him. He'd be hot with all those clothes on, but Vegard felt too tired to try to undress him.   
  
Vegard tilted his head to get a stray curl out of his eye, and the smile lingered on his lips for a while before it paled. He blinked once and a small wrinkle appeared between his eyebrows. His eyes fastened on Bård's shoulder, but his gaze was unfocused, just staring at nothing.  
  
He walked to the bed, bowed down and grabbed Bård's foot, yanked it up a bit to be able to untie his shoes and slip them off. Bård stirred slightly but didn't wake up. Vegard's moves were exaggerated, aggressive even, as he pulled off the shoes and tossed them into the hall from the bedroom door. He didn't know where his sudden frustration came from, but it was definitely there.  
  
He stripped out of his own clothes, leaving only his boxers on, and crept into bed, leaving Bård slumped at the edge of it. He could mind his business and Vegard would mind his own. He couldn't care less if the younger brother ended up falling entirely onto the floor as the night progressed – or the few hours of it there was left.  
  
\- - -  
  
Bård got rid of his cast and started an effective rehabilitation of his own right away. All he ever talked about was the new season of the show, and very often when he didn't talk or sleep he sat at the kitchen table with his computer and a writing block, scribbling mindmaps and prototypes for sketches. He'd be so focused and inside his own thoughts that Vegard had problems getting through to him sometimes. It was amusing the few first times, but quickly became annoying.  
  
One February afternoon Vegard returned home with a big cardboard box under his arm. He'd met up with Calle at noon and they'd gone out to eat – Bård had told him he'd fix his own food, which probably meant a glass of milk and a banana – and after that Vegard had driven Calle off to the airport. He was going to Bergen for a couple days to be with his family, something Vegard was slightly envious of, he hadn't seen his parents since Christmas. After dropping Calle off, Vegard had gone to Ikea to get a new mirror for the bathroom. Bård hadn't even asked about it, or about Vegard's patched up hand. It was difficult to say whether he could see the connection between the missing mirror and the bandaids, but Vegard was slightly relieved to not have to explain what had happened.  
  
He dumped the package on the floor and sniffed loudly, calling a hello into the apartment to alert Bård of his return. He got no answer. Instead he heard Bård talking loudly, but there seemed to be nobody to converse with.  
  
He rounded a corner and came into the living room. Bård paced back and forth in the limited space, one hand at his ear and the other crossed over his chest. He lifted his eyes to look at Vegard and gave him a silent nod to greet him. He was talking to someone on the phone.  
  
Vegard decided to let him speak with whoever in peace, so he grabbed the mirror and went straight to the bathroom to put it in its place. He had planned to do that later since he felt like taking a nap now, but the sooner he'd get it done the better.  
  
As he was working he couldn't help but listen to the conversation in the living room, though he only heard half of it. It wasn't difficult to figure out Bård was very excited to be speaking with the person. His tone was positive and he kept talking a lot, laughing in between sentences and agreeing with almost everything the other one was saying. Vegard smiled as he lifted the mirror on the wall and fastened it. It was good hearing Bård be happy about something, all he ever did these days was to sit silent at the table immersed in his thoughts.  
  
But then Vegard stilled and his brows wrinkled softly, his eyes looked through the mirror at the door that was slightly ajar. Outside he could see Bård's back, his head thrown back in a fit of laughter at something the unknown person had said. They talked about concerts.  
  
\- - -  
  
The coffee maker was snapped on and it started working loudly. Vegard, his hair damp and body clad in his grey bathrobe, sat down at the table opposite of his little brother. Bård didn't pause, didn't even send him a glace. His face was adorned with deep concentration. Vegard realized he'd never really paid attention to Bård's writing process, to how his hand swiveled around leaving rows of their future sketches in its wake. Funny how comedy was born out of that hand, out of the connection between Bård's thoughts and the way they were poured onto a white page. To think that such a simple a humble process would lead to diaphragms contracting and larynxes periodically closing in people all over the country several weeks later. The journey of a joke from someone's mind all the way to laughter in someone else's throat had always more or less fascinated Vegard. That someone would actually waste their breath on something he and his brother said was pretty crazy and more than a little flattering.   
  
He watched Bård work, read the sloppily written letters that formed into sentences, upside down from his position. Trails of comedy. It wasn't long before he got in on the plot and could foresee Bård's next words the fraction of a second before they were written. It was as if their minds were linked. They'd always had such a similar sense of humour. It would have been scary, hadn't they known each other and grown up in the same house the firts twenty years of their lives, only to go on to work with each other each day for the rest of it.  
  
Suddenly Bård's hand came to a halt though Vegard could easily see where he had been heading. The idea of the sketch wasn't half bad, but Bård seemed frustrated for some reason. His jaws clenched and he put the pen neatly in a vertical line beside the paper. Silently he stood up and walked away, leaving Vegard looking after him and wondering whether he'd done something wrong. He then turned his attention to the paper again. Maybe it could drop him a clue.  
  
He took it into his hands and went through the text. It really was good, at least for a base to a completely new sketch. He couldn't see what had angered Bård.  
  
As he read it again, he noticed all the grammatical errors and spelling mistakes. There was a lot of them, almost overwhelmingly so. He shook his head in wonder, _how haven't I noticed this before?_ Was Bård sleeping enough?  
  
\- - -  
  
”We are _not_ going to do a concert tour in the summer!”  
  
”I already told you, it's settled. We have the dates. It's done. Deal with it.”  
  
It pooled inside him, welled up with such a charge his hands trembled violently. These were things they were supposed to talk about. Bård couldn't just decide they'd do something like this. A concert tour was a huge thing, and partnership meant making decisions together. They weren't one person, Bård couldn't make decisions for both of them.  
  
”You can't just expect me to 'deal' with whatever you do, Bård. I'm not your little bitch ready to go by your command! You need to cancel this.”  
  
”I'm not cancelling!”  
  
When words aren't enough, use your body. Lesson one of theater school. It was really that easy.  
  
Except it wasn't.   
  
Bård looked at him, eyes huge and filled with water from the sting in his cheek which he clutched with his hand. His mouth was open in an expression of surprise and horror, but only for a second. He recovered fast, took a cold expression, straightened his back and removed his hand, exposing the reddened evidence of Vegard's lost temper.  
  
”Save that for Pie Jesu,” he hissed through gritted teeth and walked past Vegard and out through the door. ”We're performing that too on stage.”  
  
\- - -  
  
Vegard stared at the ceiling. The streetlamps outside threw streaks of light into the dark bedroom. He had forgot to close the curtains.   
  
Then again closing the curtains wouldn't have helped that much since the door to the living room was open and Bård sat scribbling his jokes in there with all the lamps on. Vegard sighed and shifted onto his side to face the wall. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on nothing at all, which was hard considering there was everything but nothing in his head these days.  
  
”Are you coming to bed soon?” he called to his brother.  
  
”I need to finish this,” Bård replied and his words were a barely audible mummer. Vegard sighed again.  
  
”You can finish it tomorrow,” he tried hopefully, though he could foresee the answer.  
  
”Not everything can be finished tomorrow. We have deadlines.”  
  
Vegard listened to the faint sounds of a ballpoint pen scratching against paper. Each day made him dislike it more and more, and his worry grew big and menacing around them.  
  
\- - -  
  
It was May. Vegard's birthday had just passed. They were both a year older now. How different their lives were from last year. Vegard couldn't say he enjoyed it much.   
  
Bård seemed distant. He was pretty much always the first one to wake up in the morning, and the last one to go to bed. His free time was devoted to either rehearsing for the upcoming concerts, the first of which was coming up in a week, or filming segments for IKMY or sitting at home with one filled and one new notebook and his computer at his hands while scribbling down whatever he came up with. He wouldn't stop for a second, barely ate or slept, and Vegard often wondered where his energy came from and whether he could lend some of it to his big brother who was in dire need. Upon asking, Vegard got the answer that Bård was doing what he loved to do, so his motivation was shooting through the roof. Despite how Bård tried to make Vegard believe it, there was something clashing with his words and the way he looked tired and worn out all the time.  
  
And it wasn't like their relationship was doing very well either. As it got warmer outside, the atmosphere in Vegard's apartment got colder and colder. It wasn't easy in any way. They had so much work and it was tearing at them, or at Vegard at least, and at Bård too by the look of it.  
  
But while Bård seemed to avoid sleep like the plague, Vegard found himself thinking about it whenever he wasn't actually asleep. All he wanted to do was to disappear from the world for some time, just get the rest he actually needed and start over with all the projects they had going on. But time was a very difficult thing to affect, and if he couldn't stop it – which he couldn't – he found it running through his fingers and down the drain. The way he couldn't grasp it and control it really stressed him out.  
  
He woke up, blinked several times and brought his hands up to protect his unaccustomed eyes from the bright light that entered his vision. He sat up and looked around dumbfounded. Apparently he sat on the sofa in the living room.  
  
 _Oh right, I_ _fell asleep_ _.  
  
_ He was about to get up when Bård's voice caught his attention and he remained sitting.  
  
”You talked in your sleep.” The younger brother was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, his arms crossed over his chest and his head leaning on the doorfame. His expression was unreadable.  
  
”Oh yeah,” Vegard answered and rubbed his eyes. Then a provocative spark lit inside him. Funny how these days all he wanted to do was piss his brother off in some way. ”Heard I do that when stressed. This concert fuss is taking its toll on me.”  
  
But Bård didn't take the bait. He started a game of his own, one that caught Vegard unaware.  
  
”When you're stressed huh?” He huffed and licked the corner of his mouth. ”It's like with smoking, isn't it?”  
  
”What?” Vegard felt confusion tumble around in his stomach.  
  
”You've smoked. I've seen you,” Bård said casually, but Vegard could hear the anger boiling down under his calm facade. How long had he known? ”You smoke when you're stressed or unhappy. You can't hide it from me, I smell you.”  
  
”I'm not trying to hide it, Bård.” Vegard tried to remain calm, he was an adult and entirely capable of making his own decisions after all. He shouldn't feel so ridiculously nervous about this. ”I'm not a child. I don't need your approval.”  
  
He could see a surge of anger flood up in Bård's body, almost to the surface of his skin where it reddened on his cheeks, but his stern expression didn't let any of it out. The battle within him was interesting to look at, Vegard almost felt a sense of pride in managing to make Bård that angry. It made him feel powerful, something he hadn't felt in ages.  
  
”You don't need my approval,” Bård repeated and Vegard nodded with a little smile which seemed to drive the other one even crazier. ”Why is it that you don't need my approval to ruin our lives, but I need yours to improve them?” His words were half-hissed, half-shouted. It could have been scary, hadn't Vegard felt so incredibly confident in himself and glad for driving Bård mad.  
  
”I can't see how you've improved my life,” he said, stone cold. The words hit Bård visibly, beat down his guard and ripped off his mask for just a second, just enough to display his hurt.  
  
”The concerts,” he said but his voice was weak. He was weak. Vegard was winning this. Bård's voice was but a whisper, ”they will improve our lives. They'll make us known.”  
  
”You don't know that. This might be a flop.” Why couldn't he just stop. He just had to hurt his brother more, didn't he? ”What are you going to do when the crowd stands silent at the end of our songs, huh? Or when the newspapers give us shit? What are you gonna do when we fail and it's nothing but your fault?” Bård swallowed and looked to the floor, admitting his defeat non-verbally, signalling to Vegard to stop. He had won and he needed to stop. Still he went on. ”You forced me into this, Bård. I don't want to do it. I don't want to do a concert tour now. Next summer, maybe, but not now. If this fails it's all on you, yet you drag me down with you.”  
  
”Why are you saying these things?” Bård asked, defeated and beaten.  
  
”Because,” Vegard said and paused. Was he really going to say it? Admit the thought that had nested in his brains for months, built itself a dark hive in the back of his mind where it hissed at him like a scared cat. He didn't know how Bård would react. It was like aiming a pistol at random and checking the damage afterwards. He took a breath, let his heart beat a few more times and said it. ”Because I wish this was all a dream.”  
  
Regret. Bård looked up, his blue eyes searched the brother's brown, searched for the genuineness he knew was there. It was unmistakable, plain as day drawn all over Vegard's figure. He didn't wish for their reality to be true, he didn't want their lives to be like this. Why would he?  
  
Bård moved, he rushed up to Vegard, stopped at his side and looked him deep in the eyes. An awful feeling twisted in Vegard's stomach, he saw the betrayal in Bård's eyes, the reflection of himself. He was sorry, but he couldn't utter it. It was impossible, just as their lives were. He returned the gaze, his features soft as his eyes bore into Bård's blue, memorizing their colour. No matter how deep he looked, or how much he wished, he couldn't see his and Bård's – _their_ – future in those eyes. It wasn't there, there was no them. How could he ever have been so stupid as to think this could work? It was doomed to fail.  
  
The door swung shut with a loud and startling bang, enough to shake Vegard out into the reality of what he'd just done. He crashed down on the sofa again, pressed the back of his head into the armrest as hard as he could and squeezed his eyes shut to close out the feelings of shame and regret.  
  


The kids next door weren't laughing and the dog in the apartment underneath wasn't barking. The young pair whose fights always echoed through the walls had fallen silent as if the last defining blow had finally been dealt.

 


	25. All Fairy Tales end Well

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not gonna get long-winded and sentimental but I just wanna say I appreciate and love you all who still care to read this story. And sorry.

This wasn't how stories went. This differed from every tale he had ever heard, and it was wrong, wrong, wrong. However much he had mocked fairy tales with happy endings when he grew into his teenage years, he wished he could take it all back now. Why would you wish for misery and destruction when you could have happiness?

The sting in his eyes felt chronic at this point, after so many hours, though he barely had any fluids in his body left to lose anymore. He'd thrown up – once? Twice? He couldn't remember – as the night mercilessly wore on and the alcohol in his blood thinned out. His head ached, his throat was on fire and his thighs and arms had dark dots where he'd bitten or clawed at himself. He had stopped doing that some time ago, and now he just sat staring into the impressive nothingness that had gathered in his living room and his mind. He was wasting the newfound enemy of his, namely time.

He barely remembered anything of the past day as he sat alone in the living room, letting the creeping darkness surround him. It was all a blur now, a mess he couldn't sort out. How awfully out of his hands everything was. It had started out insecurely, a bland day among others, the proceeded so well, and ended up worse than ever before. The thing that gutted the last of his sanity was the fact that he knew it wouldn't be the worst day in his life, and it scared him more than he could process. Just the thought of what lay ahead, how long he would have to go until the path actually ended - it was a concept he couldn't grasp, nor did he want to. At this point oblivion was what he wished for, the only rational escape now that he'd lost all traces of control.

At the black brink of madness and despair he let a raspy laugh into the room, into the shadows which had broken into his house and would soon escape as the morning sun would make a falsely heroic return. How ridiculously long it took him to finally understand – he'd never been in control.

\- - -

Bård had left. He'd also left all his belongings with Vegard. Phone, wallet, keys, clothes, everything. There was no way Vegard could get in touch with him. He wasn't even sure he wanted to.

But two days later he was getting worried. His anger and fear and frustration was slowly subsiding. At that point he felt more anxiety for his brother's well-being than anger at the way both of them had acted. Sure it was complicated, he'd made it that way himself, but Bård being okay mattered more.

Almost like an answer to his prayers, Calle called him that morning. He seemed confused as he told Vegard Bård had crashed at his place two days ago, without any vital belongings. Calle had let him stay there, naturally, as well as tried to talk to him. The discussion had quickly led to a dead-end. He said he'd never once seen Bård in a state like this.

The younger Ylvisåker had however regained some of his old self the next day, after fourteen hours of sleep on Calle's couch, and even more two days after he'd appeared at his door. Now Calle's girlfriend was arriving, and Calle didn't... wouldn't exactly mind... Bård _not_ being there while she was there... if that made any sense to Vegard. It made sense to Vegard.

”I've tried talking to him, asking him where he's staying and where his stuff is, but nothing. He's completely lost it and I don't know how the hell I'll get him out of my house!” Calle half-whispered, half-shouted. Bård was probably somewhere nearby. Vegard suggested he'd just tell the younger one to fuck off, he'd find somewhere to stay, but Calle refused. He was clearly worried.

”Can't you just come pick him up or something?” Calle pleaded almost desperately. ”I can't just kick him out without money or a phone or anything!”

In the moment Vegard refused he understood that was what he'd end up doing. So he sighed, hung up, grabbed his jacket and keys and drove off to collect his wreck of a brother from the bottom of his friend's couch.

It wasn't the easiest task to get Bård to leave Calle's house, that much was sure. Calle was stressed, Vegard was sour and Bård was extremely unwilling to cooperate, claiming he had a headache and was tired. But eventually they managed to get Bård up on his legs and out through the door. He didn't say a word during the drive back to Vegard's, and he refused to sleep in the same bed as his brother. Vegard didn't know if he was relieved or angered as he stood in the doorway of his bedroom and looked over at the sofa where his brother's body lay soundlessly, only moving as he breathed. He wanted to believe it was a good thing that they were more apart, but he had a hard time convincing himself.

\- - -

They'd spent hours and hours perfecting the setup for their concert. Early mornings and late nights of arguing over this and that, deciding about lighting, song order, outfits, band members, sound quality, instruments, prices, staff... Vegard couldn't help glaring at his brother every time they passed each other on stage while practicing. He was prepared to shout at the younger brother as soon as the performance was over, let him know how shit this whole thing had been and how he had been stressed about it the whole spring.

He was very surprised and almost happy to force himself to accept that he'd been wrong. The concert was amazing, inebriating in the most liberating way. He let go completely, letting whatever dream of becoming a real performing artist he'd had as a child break through his skin together with the glistening beads of sweat. The audience at his feet jumped and screamed, encouraged him on and he loved it. He didn't want it to end, but the best things always did.

They went out with the gang afterwards, drinking and celebrating the success of their first concert in a row of five throughout the summer. Vegard hung out with Calle most of the time, comfortable in his presence, and lost track of Bård's whereabouts somewhere along the evening. He was probably sitting somewhere with Tarjei. Vegard wouldn't be surprised at all if he'd find a ton of selfies of the two friends on Tarjei's instagram the following morning. The two of them seemed to have a great relationship, not merely professional, one like Vegard and Calle had maybe. Vegard tried half-heartedly to scan the space for either of them, but gave up when Calle hit his fist in the table with a laugh at the joke he'd just told but Vegard hadn't paid attention to. He gave a complimentary laugh anyway and took a sip out of his beer, deciding to forget about the little brother for a while.

And he had fun. He basked in the warm and tired feeling the subsiding adrenaline left as the amount of alcohol grew in his body. Sweat was forming on his forehead and neck and arms again, despite the shower he'd had only an hour or two earlier, but he couldn't mind less. His smile was the widest in a long time, his laughter the clearest. The loud sound of their glasses clanking together made him giggle like a little boy through an incoherent 'cheers'. He felt like he glowed.

The clock was well in on the territory of tomorrow when the few who were still in an upright position decided it was time to leave, Vegard one among them. He stumbled out, one arm slung over Calle's shoulder and the other holding an almost empty glass he'd forgotten to leave on the table in the pub. He wasn't sure how long it took him to get a taxi, but suddenly he sat inside the car and Calle was gone. He was asked where they'd be heading, and he gave his address as they rolled out on the street.

It was only when he was walking up to the house and fumbling with his key that he realized he'd left Bård behind. Or Bård had sneaked off alone or with Tarjei or whoever. He thought about it for a moment, swaying a little on his feet as he stared at the door, then shrugged and prodded the key into the lock clumsily. Bård would find his way.

Actually he already had. Vegard stumbled into the living room while shrugging off his jacket and letting it fall to the floor. It took him a moment to realize his little brother was slumped down on the sofa with glassy, slightly red eyes from alcohol and exhaustion.

”You're already home?” he asked and tried his best to avoid his brother's eyes. Something in Bård's gaze made him uneasy, perhaps the way he just stared at him without giving an answer. Vegard swayed on the floor for a while, trying to think of something to say. ”When did you leave?”

Bård shrugged, ”hours ago.”

”Why? Why didn't you stay? Celebrate with the others?”

”There wasn't anything to celebrate,” Bård said monotonously and his eyes narrowed slightly on Vegard, though the older one was too drunk to notice very subtle body language.

”Psh! What do you mean nothing to celebrate?” Vegard blurted out, threw his hands in the air and jumped, almost falling as his feet made contact with the floor again. ”We just had a _fantastic_ concert. Did you even see the crowd! This is something you can't just _not celebrate_ , Bård. Actually, maybe we should celebrate privately now...” he unbuttoned the top button on his shirt in what attempted to be a seductive manner, and tried to send his brother a suggestive wink, failing moderately miserably. Bård didn't even laugh, his expression only turned sourer if anything.

”I already said there's _nothing to celebrate_ ,” the younger one hissed, turning his gaze away from Vegard. ”It's just our job, we do what we are supposed to do. A plumber doesn't go out on a drinking spree every time he manages to unclog someone's sink.” He paused for a moment, and Vegard's gaze lingered on his skin uncomfortably. ”Or maybe he does, but not to celebrate. You don't celebrate having a lot of shit covering your hands. He has other reasons for drinking.”

Vegard ignored his near-pointless rambling and went to sit beside him on the couch, almost stumbling on the younger brother's long legs. They sat in silence for a moment, before Vegard turned to examine his brother's face with unfocused and cloudy, yet suddenly extremely serious eyes. Bård shifted nervously and kept looking straight forward.

”Will you ever tell me what's wrong?” Vegard asked, his voice oddly soft and silent. Bård let out a dismissive huff, but his eyes redirected down to his lap where his hands were tightly folded together. His knuckles were almost white.

”Not now at least,” he said quickly and cleared his throat, trying to gather his thoughts under Vegard's examining gaze. ”You're drunk.”

”It doesn't matter.”

”Kind of does.”

Vegard's head fell down on Bård's shoulder, and the younger one jumped slightly before settling back against the sofa. Vegard moved, nuzzled deeper into his side and let out a big sigh. Bård was uncomfortable but let his brother remain.

”I just wish you could tell me,” Vegard whispered, his words barely audible anymore. ”I'm tired of having to guess all the time. It's really hard.”

Bård felt a tiny suction in his stomach, like a small arrow flying though him and dragging a wound through his flesh in the wake of it's destruction. It was as if Vegard was accusing him of his own inattention. _You would know what's going on, had you only cared to listen_.

”I never asked you to guess,” he said, trying to keep his sudden irritation at bay. The laugh Vegard let out only brought him closer to the edge of anger.

”What else am I supposed to do? You won't tell me what's wrong so I'll just have to resort to guessing.”

Bård shoved him away from his shoulder and turned to look at him with a blue fire in his eyes, hissing and sparking with a soundless threat.

”I tried to tell you!” he shouted and Vegard flinched despite his reflexes being slowed by alcohol. ”I tried, but you didn't listen so I thought maybe you just don't care!” he spat, narrowing his eyes and pointing an accusing finger in his brother's confused face. ”Fuck! What do you think I've been up to? That morning I came home with cake when you were still asleep – where did you think I was?”

Vegard hesitated, not really seeing the connection between their situation and the morning with the cake long ago. Admittedly he had found it weird, but he hadn't really offered it a second thought. ”I – I don't know,” he stuttered.

”Of course you don't,” Bård hissed. ”Of course you don't... I was at the hospital, Vegard. I had a meeting really early in the morning so you wouldn't notice I'm gone and start asking me questions.” He paused to take a deep breath. Vegard looked confused and tried to say something but Bård shushed him aggressively. ”And the trip to England? The _surprise_? God, you really wanted to believe that, didn't you? Are you really that obtuse?”

”I'm not sure I follow,” Vegard squeezed in between Bård's rambling. He wasn't exactly on track of what was going on, but his body seemed to sense something. He was breathing loudly and a bit too quickly, and he could feel his own pulse in his neck and arms as waves that were pushing against the insides of his arteries. His forehead was sweaty and he wanted Bård to stop talking, but he couldn't bring himself to spare them from the younger one's words. He let him continue.

”Do you want an explanation?” Bård asked, loudly, clearly, like talking to a child except his words more cutting and harsh. He was staring right into Vegard's brown eyes. ”Or are you going to interrupt me like last time I tried?”

”No,” Vegard blurted out, not sure at which of the questions he was aiming the answer. Bård inhaled deeply.

”My doctor sent me to London to the National Prion Clinic.” Bård's voice had lowered now. The silence after his words felt deafening, and Vegard was trapped in time for only a couple of seconds. His gaze studied the brother's face, the nose, the eyes, the lips, the cheeks, all of him which he had known until now. Bård's eyes fell from Vegard's and he swallowed before continuing.

”I'm terminally ill, Vegard.”

\- - -

This wasn't how stories went. This differed from every tale he had ever heard, and it was wrong, wrong, wrong.

In fairy tales the bad guys died and the good guys lived. Bård wasn't a bad guy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the beginning of the chapter comes like after the end, hope you got that.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Ideas and thoughts, especially on which pairing to use, are very welcome!


End file.
